


Now and Always

by enigmaticblue



Series: Now and Always [4]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-09
Updated: 2008-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third and final part of my epic post-Chosen story, picking up where Latter Days and Faithfully Dangerous left off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Although the previous two stories were more ensemble stories, this one is largely Spuffy in focus. It's possible to read this one as a stand alone, but it's going to be difficult. Also, the diary entries at the beginning of each chapter are part of the story as well. Do yourself a favor and don't skip them.

**“You’re in my mind, baby/Now and always/You’re in my mind, baby/Now and always/The road I’m walking/might fall away/You’re in my mind, baby/Now and always./A bonfire smoking/Into a low sky/The sparks they fly up/Into a low sky/Would that these demons/Let me rest/They’re with me, Lord/’Til the day that I die…” ~David Gray, “Now and Always”**

**Chapter 1**

_“Day 23: We’re still no closer to finding Spike, and it’s pretty clear that he’s not going to show up anytime soon. Willow and the coven keep assuring me that they’re trying to locate him, but something or someone is blocking them. All they know is that he’s alive and in another dimension. I’m dealing, though. It helps that all we do is eat, sleep, and kill demons. I know the others are making time for other things, and I’d be doing the same thing if Spike were here, but for right now, it’s easier not to think about that. Eat, sleep, kill demons. I keep thinking that if I do enough of that, I won’t miss him so much. It’s not working.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Buffy stared at the darkening sky, the sun just disappearing below the horizon. The city appeared both dark and quiet from this height; she knew that the latter was just an illusion. As she did every night, Buffy pulled the crystal from her pocket and stared at the gently pulsing light.

According to the coven, the presence of the light indicated that Spike was alive, but they still didn’t know where he was. A different dimension, was all they could say for certain, but that didn’t tell her anything.

What she knew was that it had been fifteen months, three weeks, and five days since she’d received the news that Spike was missing. What she knew was that they were no closer to finding him now than they had been when the portal had closed.

What she _knew_ was that she had never missed anyone so much in her life.

Buffy tucked the crystal back into her pocket, a talisman she was never without.

“Buffy?”

She turned to see Vi standing there. She was easy to find this time of the night; everyone knew that she watched the sun set from the roof of the Hyperion before going hunting. “Yeah?”

“You ready to take off?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Who’s with us tonight?”

“Willow and Oz said they wanted to go with us. Willow has a bead on a few of the remaining demons.”

Buffy frowned. “Do we have an estimate as to how many are left?”

“It’s hard to say, but we’re guessing another week here at the most before the Guard can start opening up the last section.” Vi loosened her sword in its scabbard. “How long are you planning on staying?”

“As long as it takes. That hasn’t changed. Spike is still alive.”

“Audra and I meant what we said. We’re here as long as you are.” Vi smiled. “He’s our friend, too.”

“I appreciate that.” Buffy didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t always very good with words, especially when it came to accepting help and expressing gratitude.

Vi shrugged off her thanks. “Hey, we’re having fun.”

Buffy snorted. “Please.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me that there haven’t been moments when you’ve enjoyed living in Amazonia.”

Buffy couldn’t help the grin that formed at that comment. She wasn’t sure when their own little square of hell got tagged with that title, but she knew how and why. At some point within the first couple of months, one of the soldiers manning the checkpoint had commented about their willingness to stay in a “no man’s land.”

“That’s why it’s a woman’s land,” one of the Slayers had remarked, and her partner had grinned and announced that they were living in Amazonia.

The Slayer who had coined the name—and Buffy couldn’t remember her name—had been killed the following week. In the first four months, they had lost as many Slayers, although things had definitely improved.

Giles had kept his end of the bargain by ensuring that Buffy didn’t have to worry about anything other than what was going on in the four square miles she was now in charge of. Buffy had accomplished what she’d promised by making sure that the demons didn’t overrun the rest of the city.

In truth, there had been things that she’d enjoyed, among them the fact that fighting—being the Slayer—was all she had to worry about. The camaraderie had been nice as well, but she was missing Spike too badly for true enjoyment.

Of course, Buffy had noticed that each Slayer was different. There were some, like Vi and Audra, who had embraced living in a virtual war zone with a fierce joy; others had been shipped out within a week or two of their arrival, unable to handle the harsh conditions and the nightly battles. Buffy was somewhere in the middle. If Spike had been with her, perhaps she would have felt that joy; without him, this was merely a job that had to be done, and she was marking time until his return.

But she understood what Vi was saying, and she had to admit that there were times when she’d enjoyed herself. “Okay. Fine. Yes, there have been times when I’ve had fun.”

“See?” Vi sobered. “Spike would love it.”

“God, yes.” Buffy smiled to think of it. “He’d love it.”

They had reached the lobby, where Willow and Oz were waiting. “Hey, Buf.”

Willow looked hopeful, and Buffy knew why. The witch still thought that Buffy blamed her for Spike’s disappearance, although that wasn’t exactly true. Buffy had long ago realized that fate was a bitch. Sometimes, there wasn’t anything a person could do about it.

“Hey, Will. You ready?”

“Ready as ever.” She grinned. “I think we’re almost done.”

“Giles will be happy to have you two back,” Buffy replied, mustering a smile. “He’s been talking about how great you’d be in Bath for months now.”

Willow shrugged. “I liked Bath, but this is good for now.” She tucked her hands in the pockets of her worn jeans. “I promised.”

Buffy smiled. “Right. For the long haul.”

The front doors crashed open, and one of the Slayers ran in. She was a little newer, but Buffy had made an effort to remember their names—Ryan, if she remembered correctly.

“Audra sent me,” she gasped out. “Buffy? Ma’am?”

“Just Buffy,” she sighed. “What’s wrong, Ryan?”

“Audra said to tell you we found him. She said to tell you that Spike is back.”

Buffy froze. “What?”

“He’s in an office building. They have him cornered. Audra said to tell you that they’re going to keep him there, but he’s not himself.”

Buffy swore. “Change of plans, Vi.”

“You got it.” Vi headed out to the courtyard. “Two vehicles!” she called. “I need two!”

“I have the one I rode!” Ryan called after her.

Buffy didn’t much care if there was an available vehicle or not. She was getting to Spike. By the time she got out to the courtyard, Ryan was straddling one ATV, waving to Buffy to get on the back.

She didn’t hesitate, or stop to wait for the others. Ryan knew the way, and she wanted to get to Spike.

The ATV roared out of the courtyard, and Buffy gave thanks that the young Slayer sensed the urgency of their mission. They roared through the empty streets of Los Angeles, Buffy clinging tightly to the back of the ATV.

Ryan’s dark hair, tied back in a ponytail, whipped her face, but Buffy had faced worse discomforts in the last year. When Ryan screeched to a halt, Buffy leaped off, heading into the building they’d stopped in front of.

She didn’t bother checking to see if the others were following. Her heavy boots thudded in a familiar rhythm as she ran through the doors, into what had been a lobby at one point. The building was in one of the areas that had been hardest hit by the horde of demons, where the structures were all but demolished.

The lobby was empty, and Buffy looked around wildly. “Where is he?” she demanded as Ryan entered.

“Downstairs. Audra caught sight of him outside, and he ran down there. She’s got him cornered with the others.”

“Cornered?” Buffy echoed.

Ryan shook her head. “You’ll see.”

The younger girl led the way to a stairwell so dark that Buffy hesitated at the entrance. She’d forgotten to grab a flashlight in her haste, but a murmured word from Willow brought a round globe of light floating in midair.

“Thanks,” Buffy tossed over her shoulder as she clattered down the stairs.

Once in the basement, Buffy followed the sounds of voices to a boiler room, spotting Audra immediately. The other woman had her bow slung across her back, and she was watching one particularly dark corner closely.

“Audra?”

“Buffy.” There was an audible sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Where is he?”

Audra waved at the corner. “Hiding. He’s—he’s not himself. I know he didn’t recognize me, and I’m not sure he even knows his own name.”

Her heart sinking, Buffy motioned for the three Slayers with Audra to lower their weapons. “Put those away,” she ordered. “And go upstairs. I’ll call if I need anyone.”

“Are you sure?” Buffy recognized Uta’s voice. “You haven’t seen him yet, Buffy. He’s not in good shape.”

“He’s feral,” Leslie agreed. “I don’t know why he hasn’t attacked us yet.”

“Maybe because it’s Spike.” Buffy knew that she sounded snappish, but she couldn’t help it. This was Spike they were talking about. “I’ll take care of him.”

One by one, the Slayers went upstairs until only Willow and Oz remained. Buffy gave her friend a pleading look. “Will, please.”

“What if he attacks you, Buffy?” She continued quickly, cutting off Buffy’s protest. “I just think that you should have backup.”

“Uh, Buffy?” Oz’s eyes were fixed on the corner, where Buffy could just make out yellow eyes and a crouching figure. “Willow’s right. She can stop him without hurting him.”

Buffy finally nodded, knowing that she wasn’t going to win the argument. “Spike?” she called.

Silence was her only answer, and she took a step closer, holding out her empty hands to show that she was unarmed. “Spike? It’s Buffy. You’re safe now.”

There was a snarl, and Spike’s naked figure sprung from the shadows, tackling Buffy, sending both of them to the floor. “No, Will!” Buffy shouted, knowing that the witch was readying herself for a counterattack.

They grappled, but it didn’t take Buffy long to get the upper hand. She had been hunting every night for months straight, and was in better shape than she’d ever been in. Spike, on the other hand, had clearly been weakened by his ordeal.

Buffy finally managed to get him under control by straddling him and trapping his arms between their bodies. Looking into his wild, yellow eyes, she had a flashback to Sunnydale—when Angel had returned from whatever hell dimension she’d sent him to, he’d been completely feral as well.

Spike suddenly went limp beneath her, and she glanced up at Willow, who appeared apologetic. “Sorry, Buffy, but it didn’t look like he was going to go quietly.”

“He’s not hurt?”

The witch shook her head. “Just sleeping. Maybe he needed it?”

“He needs clothes a lot more.”

“We’ll go grab something,” Oz offered. “Didn’t Spike have a bag here?”

“It’s in my room,” Buffy replied. “Thanks.” As they turned to leave, Buffy asked, “Will? How long is he going to be out?”

Willow shook her head. “I’m not sure. A few hours?”

“He’s probably going to need blood, too.”

“We’ll figure it out, Buffy,” Willow promised.

Once alone with the vampire, Buffy rolled off of his still figure. It had been too hot for a jacket, and she had nothing to cover him with. Not that Buffy minded seeing all of him, but it hurt to see him look so vulnerable.

He was painfully thin, literally nothing but skin and bone, and he was dirty and covered in bruises and scratches. Most of that could be remedied fairly quickly—a few good meals and a bath, and he’d be good as new. What worried Buffy was how feral he’d been, the way he’d appeared not to recognize her at all.

While Angel had been in much the same condition after coming back, he’d only been gone three months; Spike had been gone five times that long.

But if anybody had wanted to be redeemed—had fought to be redeemed—it was Spike, and that was the criteria that Giles had given for Angel being saved.

Reaching out, Buffy ran her hand down his now-human face, pushing a lock of hair off of his forehead. She wondered how it was that he could come back so changed internally, and yet look nearly the same on the outside.

“Oh, Spike.” Unable to resist, Buffy leaned down, pressing her lips to his in a chaste, gentle kiss. Any hope she’d had that her kiss was all that was needed died as he lay, unresponsive.

Stroking his hair, Buffy sat next to him. “There are so many things I want to tell you. So much has happened, and you haven’t been here. Miriam said that you knew, and she said that if I’d been here, we both would have been killed. I can’t help but think that we would have beat it. I mean, the prophecy said that the Master was going to kill me, and here I am.”

Her thumb traced his jaw line, his sharp cheekbones, and the scar through his eyebrow. “I’ve missed you so much. I swore I was going to get you back, and I didn’t do anything. I’ve just been fighting, and I needed you here with me. I hate living without you.”

Although there was no response, Buffy kept talking, hoping that somehow she would get through, call him back to her. She didn’t say much of substance, wanting to save the real news for when he could appreciate it.

He would want to know that Dawn and Oliver were doing well in Cleveland, and that Dawn thought that Oliver would probably propose soon. Spike would have gotten a kick out of how Wes and Faith were crazy about each other and intent on not letting onto it. Spike would have made sarcastic comments and teased them like crazy.

Spike would have made living in Amazonia not only bearable, but enjoyable.

Buffy had no idea how much time had passed by the time Willow and Oz returned with a bundle of clothing.

Willow handed her the clothing, then pointed to the stairs. “I’ll just…” She gave Oz a meaningful look then headed back upstairs.

“I guess I got nominated,” Oz murmured. He knelt down next to Spike’s lifeless form and began to help Buffy get him dressed.

“Thanks,” Buffy murmured.

“Hey, I know what it’s like to wake up naked in a strange place.”

They shared a smile borne of shared experiences on the Hellmouth and went back to work, silently this time. Buffy had learned to appreciate silence during her months in L.A. Faith, Wesley, and Oz were the three who were easiest to be with. Willow kept trying to apologize, but the others were interested only in keeping her company and watching her back.

The others—the other Slayers—were too in awe of her to be real companionship. No one was real companionship like Spike had been.

Spike was still unconscious when they finally got him dressed, and they carried him up the stairs together.

Willow met them in the lobby. “I’ve been thinking about how to keep Spike under control.”

Buffy winced. “Will—”

“I can set up a barrier on one of the rooms in the hotel that will only allow a few people in and out.” Willow spoke quickly, as though sensing Buffy’s unease. “If I put it up with Spike inside, and key it to you and a couple of others, you won’t have to worry about using restraints.”

Buffy nodded, feeling a sense of relief. The last thing she wanted to do was to chain him up, and Willow offered an elegant solution. “I can get him back on one of the ATVs, if we’ve got two available.”

“We do,” Oz said. “We made sure of it.”

The two of them made sure that she had Spike secured on the four-wheeler and then climbed on their own. Buffy sat in front of Spike, keeping his arms around her by the simple expedient of looping a cord around his wrists a couple of times.

His body rested against her, a cool weight that was less comforting than she would have hoped. Buffy wanted _her_ Spike back.

~~~~~

It didn’t take Willow long to set up the barrier. She’d performed far more complicated spells over the last year.

She could see Spike’s still form on the bed from where she stood outside Buffy’s room. “Who do you want to have access?”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to be sure that there are people who can sit with him who won’t stake him.”

“We have the tranq gun,” Oz reminded her from his stance on the other side of the hallway. He was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “I can grab it.”

Buffy nodded reluctantly. “That might become necessary.”

“It’ll let the first five people inside, other than you,” Willow announced, finishing the spell. “I can ask whoever you choose to come see you when they get back in.”

“Great. Thanks, Will.” Buffy rubbed her forehead. “What am I going to do with him?”

She put a tentative hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe—maybe you could talk to Ellen? She’s good at this sort of thing.”

Buffy nodded. “Let’s make her one of the five. She’s really helped Dana. Even if she can’t get through to Spike, she might be able to keep him calm.”

Willow noted that Buffy’s eyes were moist, and she quickly pulled Buffy into a hug. “This is Spike,” she whispered fiercely. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Is he?” Buffy returned her hug, speaking softly. “You didn’t see Angel when he got back from his hell dimension.” She chuckled ruefully. “Spike would hate me comparing him to Angel.”

Willow pulled back. “But Angel came back to you.”

“Angel was only gone for three months. How much longer has it been for Spike?” Buffy pulled away. “God, Will, I feel as though I failed him, now more than ever. How long has he been back?”

“Miriam’s been doing a locator spell every week, and she did the last one two days ago,” Willow reminded her. “I think it’s fair to say that he hasn’t been back long.”

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but shut it again when Spike began to stir. She stepped forward, but Willow laid a hand on her arm. “Buffy—”

“I’ll be fine.” She shook off Willow’s hand and stepped through the barrier, moving to stand right next to the bed. “Spike?” she called softly.

Spike moved abruptly, rolling off the bed, away from Buffy. Willow lost sight of him from the hallway, and after a moment’s hesitation, she stepped inside.

She already had some idea of who Buffy would want to sit with Spike—it would be her and Oz, Faith and Wes, and Ellen, because of her unique talents. She’d worked miracles with Dana, and—to a lesser extent—Connor.

Spike was silent, but his yellow eyes and fangs presented enough of a threat that Willow readied herself to do another sleep spell.

Buffy waved her back impatiently. “It’s okay, Willow.” She approached Spike slowly, carefully, the way she might have a wild, wounded animal. Keeping her hands extended, noticeably empty, she murmured, “It’s okay, Spike. You’re safe, I promise.”

Unlike the last time, Spike didn’t attack, instead watching her warily, pressing himself back against the wall.

“Buffy?” Wesley’s voice called from the hallway. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, Wes.” Buffy backed away slowly, keeping an eye on Spike. Willow was relieved to see that no matter how happy Buffy was to have Spike back, she was still treating him with caution.

Wesley stepped inside, a mug in one hand and the tranq gun in the other. “I took the liberty of getting blood for him. Oz told me what happened.”

Willow could see a strip of white peeking out from under his left sleeve, and she frowned. “Where did you get the blood?”

Wesley shrugged. “Although Slayer blood might be better, I didn’t think it wise to tempt him in the state he’s in now.”

“And what about you?” Buffy asked.

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve donated.”

Willow was suddenly very aware of the way Spike was staring at them—or, more specifically, Wesley. “Uh, guys?”

Wesley’s eyes went to the vampire, and raised his eyebrow. “That probably wasn’t very kind of me,” he murmured, his voice taking on a sing-song note. “It’s right here, Spike. It’s not going anywhere.”

Willow briefly wondered if he’d been taking lessons from Ellen, because he sounded much like she did when trying to soothe a wounded Slayer.

Prudently, Wesley set the mug of blood down a couple of feet away from Spike, then backed away quickly.

The vampire eyed all three of them suspiciously before darting out and seizing the mug, drinking it down hungrily.

Willow gulped and turned to Buffy. “He’s going to need more blood."


	2. Chapter 2

_“Day 6: We had our first casualty today. Thank goodness Ellen was here. She managed to get the bleeding under control pretty quickly, and stabilized Reyna enough to get her out. Giles said that the army had been talking about bombing the area, but they weren’t sure how much collateral damage it would cause, or whether everyone was evacuated. They’ve also decided that it’s going to cost them a lot less to secure the borders and let us kill all the demons.” ~Excerpt from Buffy Summers’ diary_

Buffy watched Ellen from her spot near the doorway. She was working her magic on Spike, who was still crouched in the corner. Given past experience, Buffy had been a little surprised when Spike hadn’t attacked anybody. Instead, he’d stayed in the corner, watching.

She had no idea what was going through his head, but she was hoping that Ellen would.

Ellen was crooning comforting promises, telling Spike that he was safe, that no one was going to hurt him, that all would be well. Her voice seemed to have lulled him into trance, and he allowed her to put one hand on the side of his head. It was as close as he’d allowed anyone to get, except while unconscious.

Ellen finally gave his cheek a gentle pat and whispered something Buffy couldn’t make out. Whatever she’d said, Spike’s only reaction was to curl up on the floor and slip into a peaceful slumber.

“Let’s go find a place to sit down.” Ellen led Buffy out, putting a hand on her shoulder and walking her down the hall to the room that she and Dana still shared.

Dana was gone when they stepped inside the room, probably because she was off hunting with Connor. The two of them had seemed to form a strange bond, and they were just as into killing demons. Buffy knew that Ellen was already talking to Giles about finding them another place where they could expend their energies in a safe way.

“What’s going on with him?” Buffy asked quietly.

Ellen sighed. “Your guess was accurate, but there’s a little more to it than that.”

“How much more?”

“He was tortured, and time passed differently where they had him. That much was entirely accurate. The twist is that those torturing him used the faces of those Spike loved and trusted.”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t—” She stopped, remembering how the First had manipulated its victims. “They used my face.”

“Among others. He knew it wasn’t you, but after a time, it was too difficult. He did what he had to do in order to protect himself, and what you see is the result of that.”

She took a deep breath. “But you can help him, right? You helped Dana and Connor, so you can help him, too.”

Ellen shook her head. “I’m afraid that this is a very different situation. I could reach the people that they were, their humanity. I can’t reach Spike’s.”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“Yes, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Why am I not shocked?”

“I can essentially do what he has already done, only more completely. All of his memories would still be there, but they would be suppressed until he’s ready to deal with them.” Ellen covered Buffy’s hand with her own.

“He wouldn’t remember me.” Buffy stood, pulling away from the witch.

“He wouldn’t remember anyone. He would essentially be a blank slate.”

Buffy couldn’t help it; she let loose a string of swear words that probably would have delighted Spike, since she’d learned a lot of them from him. “What if we wait? The same thing happened to Angel; he got over it.”

“Did they use your face?” Ellen asked quietly. “Perhaps if you sent him somewhere else, to stay with others for a time, he might recover without assistance, but I think you underestimate how long he was there, and how deeply he’s buried himself.”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “But this way?”

“This way he comes to know that it’s over, and that you are the Buffy that he knows and trusts.”

“How long will it take?”

“I don’t know.”

“And he won’t know me.”

“He won’t know anyone.”

“That’s supposed to make it okay?” Buffy demanded.

“I can’t tell you what’s best. I can only give you some idea of what I can do for Spike, and what the consequences will be.” Ellen’s gaze was compassionate.

Buffy took a deep breath. “If you do this, will he feel better?”

Ellen shrugged. “I don’t know. He won’t remember the torture until he’s ready to do so, and I’ll try to arrange it so that when he remembers that much, he’ll also remember his past life as well. On the other hand, he will have no memories, and he’ll likely be confused and disoriented.”

“But he won’t be cowering in a corner. That’s what you’re telling me.”

“I can make no guarantees.”

“Who can?” Buffy paced back and forth, across the length of the room. “Okay, I want you to do it. I don’t want him to suffer, and if this helps, then I think we should go for it.”

Ellen nodded. “I’ll do it immediately.”

“Should I—”

“I’ll do it while he’s sleeping. When he wakes up, he won’t remember anything.” Ellen gripped her shoulder. “You should be there when he wakes.”

Buffy looked away, blinking back tears. “Sure.”

~~~~~

“Shit.” Faith stared at Wesley. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He shook his head. “That’s what Ellen told me. Her—I suppose you could call it an operation—was successful, as far as she knows. What Spike will be like when he wakes up is another question entirely.”

Faith just shook her head. Sixteen months Buffy had been looking for Spike, only to lose him all over again. “Shit,” she repeated. “I never thought I’d say this, but poor Buffy. Did you see her?”

“She’s in the room with him.” Wesley sat down next to her on the bed. He’d stripped to his boxers, and she glanced over at him. He had more scars than she did on the outside, oddly enough, but they were just as scarred on the inside.

She reached over, tracing the circle of the bullet wound on his side, the pale line on his shoulder that she recognized as her own handiwork, the scar across the left side of his neck. “How long have we been together?”

Wesley stared at her, a frown creasing his forehead. “What?”

“How long have we been together?”

“Uh…” His eyes went blank as he did the calculation. “Almost two years.”

“That’s what I thought.” She straddled his lap. “What would you do if that was me? If I lost all my memories, and I didn’t remember you at all?”

His hands moved up under her shirt. “I suppose I would have to do my best to make you remember.”

“How long would you wait?”

“As long as it took.” Wesley’s hands pushed her hair back from her face. “What brought this on?”

“We’re partners.”

“Of course we are.” His blue eyes narrowed. “Faith…”

“Dammit, Wes. What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We’re living.” Strong hands cradled her face with a gentleness that Faith had never expected to want. “And we’re making love.”

“Is this love?”

A smile touched his lips. “I don’t see how it could be anything else, when I can’t stomach the idea of life without you.”

Faith felt the same, even though she couldn’t say it.

~~~~~

When he woke, it was to an unfamiliar face just inches from his own. She was beautiful—that was the first thought that crossed his mind. The second was panic because not only could he not remember who the woman was, he couldn’t even remember who _he_ was.

Rolling off the bed, away from the woman, he looked around the room in a panic. It looked like a hotel room, albeit a very rundown hotel room.

“Spike, it’s okay.” He turned back to the woman, who had her hands extended in a clear attempt to reassure him. “Really.”

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“I’m Buffy.” He could hear weariness in her voice, a sort of sadness that hurt to hear. “You’re in Los Angeles, in a hotel. Look, I promise I’ll explain everything.”

He wanted to believe her. It was startling, how much he wanted to trust her, but he needed to see for himself.

Later, he would wonder what the hell he was thinking, because if he didn’t even remember his own name, how would he know that he really was in Los Angeles?

Wherever that was.

She called out an inarticulate warning as he pulled open the curtain, allowing sunlight to flood the room. He turned to look at her in surprise, wondering what the problem was with looking out over the city. “What?”

“N—nothing.”

That wasn’t the truth. He knew from her eyes that she was lying to him. “Is there something wrong?”

She moved to his side, taking his left hand in hers, staring down at the silver ring adorning his middle finger. “You have to promise me that you won’t take this off.”

“Why? Is it like a wedding ring?”

She laughed, but the sound was harsh, and it sounded as though it had been ripped from her. “No. No, it’s not a wedding ring.”

He felt a pang, although he couldn’t have said why. She was a stranger to him, even if the reverse was not true.

“Do you want to get cleaned up? I’ll grab some clean clothes for you.” She nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “Go ahead. I’ll be right back, and we can talk.”

She was at the door before he had a chance to speak, and he called after her, “You _know_ me.”

He realized how inane those words were even as they came out of his mouth. Of course she knew him; she’d called him by name and had promised to explain everything.

Buffy paused in the doorway, then turned. He thought he could see the tears in her eyes. “Better than you know.”

Then she was gone, leaving him alone with his multitude of unanswered questions.

~~~~~

Buffy blinked back tears, leaning against the wall outside their room. It was still their room; she’d never thought of it any other way. She had never allowed herself to question whether or not she would find him, and she had. That was Spike in there.

Laughing bitterly, she wondered if she should have called him Randy, and introduced herself as Joan. They had gotten along swimmingly after Willow had wiped out their memories. For a brief time, they had been happy, unhindered by the baggage that came along with being a vampire and a resurrected Slayer.

And now? Now, just as they had been getting beyond that baggage, forging a relationship built on trust and love, this happened.

“Buffy? Is everything okay?” Willow stood in front of her, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

Buffy shook her head. “He has no idea who I am, Will.”

“You knew that was going to happen.”

“There’s knowing, and then there’s _knowing_.” She buried her head in her hands. “He looks at me, and he has no idea…”

It was too painful to say the words out loud again, and she stopped, letting Willow pull her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Buffy.”

She allowed Willow to hold her for a brief time, then pulled back. “I promised I’d find him some clean clothes.”

“Aren’t they in your room?”

She shrugged. “I needed some time.”

Willow’s eyes were serious. “Hang in there, Buffy. I know Spike, and I know how he feels about you. Whether or not he remembers you right now, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Time?” Buffy asked. “What kind of time are we talking, Willow? It could be days or years. It could be decades before he remembers.”

“Maybe he won’t need to remember.” Willow’s hand patted her on the back awkwardly. “Maybe he’ll just fall in love with you all over again.”

Buffy wished she could believe that.

~~~~~

He felt uncomfortable, sitting on the bed, wearing only a towel. From the state of the bathroom, it was clear that he was in _her_ room, and he couldn’t help but wonder how it was he’d come to be with her in a hotel.

It felt like more than a hotel, however, and almost like a home. Was that supposed to feel strange to him? How was he supposed to feel? How did he know that he didn’t have a place of his own to rest his head?

How did he know anything at all, and how could he trust these flashes of insight when he didn’t even recognize his own name?

“Sorry.” Buffy slipped back inside the room. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Now that she’d said something, he realized that he was. His hunger felt familiar, and yet not, and when he caught the scent of the steaming liquid in the mug, he felt his face shift.

“It’s okay.” She must have sensed his growing alarm, because she sat down next to him, grabbing one of his hands in her own and wrapping it around the warm mug. “I thought it would be easier this way.”

“What would be?”

“The explanations.”

“What am I?”

He knew. At least, he thought he knew. The blood that he was staring at was a pretty good indicator, but the light from the window hadn’t burned him, and he had seen his unfamiliar reflection in the mirror.

“You’re a vampire. You have a soul, though, and the ring—it keeps the sunlight from killing you.”

“That’s why I’m not supposed to take it off.”

“That’s why.” She sighed. “You should drink. It’ll get cold, and I’m told that’s pretty bad.”

“It doesn’t disgust you?”

“I’m used to it by now, so no, it doesn’t disgust me.”

It disgusted him, and at the same time didn’t. He should have hated it; the thick liquid, the coppery taste—it all should have turned his stomach.

Instead, he found it delicious.

“We’re still working on getting a steady supply, so it’s probably going to be short rations for a while. I’m sorry about that.”

He had no idea what she was talking about. He had no idea how often he normally needed to eat, for that matter. “Does it ever go away?”

“Does what?”

“The hunger?”

“I—I don’t know. I never asked.” She walked over to a threadbare duffel bag on the other side of the bed. “I don’t know how clean these are. I never really checked. I didn’t think—” She stopped. “I guess I just didn’t think.” She handed him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “I called Giles. He’s going to pack up some of your stuff and send it. I guess we could probably go back to England now, but I feel like I should stay here until we know things are really under control.”

He didn’t understand any of what she’d just said, except for the part about going back to England. That sounded familiar, and he’d heard his accent; he’d thought it was English.

“You don’t know who Giles is.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he shook his head anyway. “No, I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” Buffy rubbed her hands on her denim-covered legs. “I’ll let you get dressed.”

“Don’t.” He didn’t want her to leave. She had been the first thing he’d seen when he woke up, and therefore was most familiar to him in the midst of all this strangeness. “Don’t leave.”

Relief caused the tension in her face to bleed out, and she smiled—the first he’d seen from her. “Okay. Whatever you want.”

Strangely, her words did not make him feel any better.

~~~~~

“Another shipment, huh? I thought you guys just got one.”

Vi shrugged. She knew that Buffy and some of the others regarded the soldiers with suspicion, and she understood that. The situation was odd, to say the least, and who was to say that the army wouldn’t try to get rid of them as soon as they’d finished the clean up.

Still, she’d found that things went a lot smoother if she was friendly with the guards that ran the checkpoint.

“There was an emergency,” she replied, taking the cooler from him, and handing it to Audra, who loaded it on one of the ATVs. “You know how it goes. There’s always one more thing you need.”

“I hope no one was seriously hurt.” Ramirez was young, and had been stationed in L.A. for about a month now. He was by far Vi’s favorite among the soldiers—not least because he apparently had a sister who was a Slayer.

In truth, if things had been different, she probably would have asked him out.

Vi shook her head. “It wasn’t anything serious. How’s your sister? She’s in Cleveland, right?”

He nodded. “She’s doing good. I think she’s gunning to get sent here, though.”

Reading the worry in his eyes, Vi smiled. “Not gonna happen. We’ve pretty much got things sewn up, so more Slayers aren’t needed at the moment.”

“That’s good. What you guys are doing is great, but I don’t want my sister in there.”

Vi smiled. “No one does. See you soon, Manny.”

Once they were well away from the checkpoint, Vi turned to Audra. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Other than when we found him? No. Buffy’s keeping him in their hotel room. I’m not even sure that she’s had Willow take down the barrier spell.”

“Have you heard the rumors going around?”

Audra’s lips turned up. “About the hotness factor? Oh, yeah. Most of the girls are dying to get a look at him. He’s too skinny for me, though.”

“He could use a few meals.”

They rode in companionable silence for a few blocks, their engines the only sound echoing through empty streets. Los Angeles was like a ghost town these days, at least in the section that the army had quarantined.

It was a far cry from what it had been when Vi had first arrived. The streets then had been a lot more dangerous, and Slayers were going out in groups of at least six for safety’s sake. Now, a well-trained Slayer could go out by herself and not be taking her life into her hands.

“You going to stay here when this is over?” Vi asked suddenly.

Audra shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s going to change when they open things up again.”

“Yeah.”

“No more racing.” Audra’s quick grin was the only warning Vi had before Audra hit the gas, sending her four-wheeler hurtling forward.

Vi didn’t hesitate to do the same. She’d long since learned that you made things fun whenever you could. It was a lesson that a Slayer couldn’t afford not to learn.


	3. Chapter 3

_“Day 5: Giles managed to get the supply lines set up, but I have no idea how. The National Guard has evacuated everyone in the affected zone, and everyone in the buffer zone, too. There’s still no sign of Spike, and I’m settling in for the long haul. Vi and Audra arrived yesterday, and along with Faith and Wes, we’ve got a good team.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Buffy didn’t know if she’d done the right thing by asking Willow to remove the barrier, but she also knew that she couldn’t keep Spike trapped inside the room forever. Aside from his understandable confusion, he was sane and not a danger to himself or others.

“Spike?” she called.

He didn’t move from his spot by the window, looking out at the city. Patiently, she called again, raising her voice slightly in case he hadn’t heard. “Spike?”

He still didn’t move, and she walked over and put a hand on his arm. “Spike.”

He started. “I’m sorry?”

“I called you three times.”

Looking abashed, he attempted a smile. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were talking to me.”

Somehow it hurt to know that Spike didn’t even recognize his own name when he heard it, and she wondered what was going through his mind. Buffy wasn’t sure she had the right to ask, however; they were virtually strangers.

“Do you want a tour of the place?” It was one of the few innocuous questions she could think of.

After a moment’s hesitation, Spike nodded. “Yeah.”

Buffy turned to leave, stopping by the door when she realized that Spike wasn’t following her. “Is something wrong?”

He appeared uncertain. “Is there something else you call me?”

“Huh?”

“It’s just that ‘Spike’ doesn’t seem like a…real name.”

Buffy blinked. “Well, it’s a nickname, but no one ever calls you anything else. I know your first name’s William, but I don’t know your last name. I’m sorry.”

She could see him considering that. “I see.”

“Would you prefer William?”

“I just thought maybe it would sound more familiar.”

Buffy didn’t know what to say. “So, um, tour?”

“You haven’t told me what happened yet.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” she said honestly.

“At the beginning?”

“That’s easier said than done.” She sighed, realizing that it would likely be better to address his questions first. They could do the tour later. “You might want to sit down for this.”

He raised an eyebrow, then sat. “It was bad.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Buffy nodded. “Yeah.”

She still had no words. How much to tell him? How much did he really need to know?

“How long have I been gone?”

His question at least got the ball rolling. “Fifteen months, three weeks, and five days when we found you.”

His puzzled frown indicated that he was still confused. “And I was unconscious?”

“No, you—” Buffy rubbed her tired eyes. “A year and a half ago we had an apocalypse on our hands here. We’re talking demon hordes, portals to hell dimensions, big conspiracies—the whole nine yards. Giles—he’s the head of the Council, and kind of in charge of this sort of thing—asked you to come here to help out. By the time I arrived, you were gone. Somehow you got sucked into a hell dimension.”

“I don’t remember any of that.”

Spike didn’t sound as though he believed her, but then, he didn’t sound as though he didn’t believe her either. It was a lot to take in, that was for sure. “No, because you were tortured so badly that you were pretty much nuts, and the only way to make you not nuts was to help you forget it for a while.”

“And that’s why I don’t remember anything.”

“No, that’s why you’re not acting like some kind of wild animal,” Buffy replied bluntly. “You don’t remember anything that came before the torture because of what happened to you in the hell dimension. Ellen can explain it better. She was the one who explained it to me.”

Spike was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on her face. “What were we?”

Buffy swallowed. “We’ve been everything, but when—when you disappeared, we were lovers.”

“I see.” He rose. “How about that tour?”

She swallowed her disappointment. “Sure.”

Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke. “Buffy?”

She didn’t turn around. She didn’t think she’d be able to meet his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Facing him, she asked, “For what?”

“For not remembering you.”

Buffy swallowed her tears. “It’s okay. It’s just a matter of time.”

She just hoped that was true.

~~~~~

Faith watched as Spike followed Buffy through the lobby, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. “Hey. Good to see you conscious.”

Spike blinked, apparently aware that she was talking to him, but with no idea of how to respond.

“Faith,” she said, putting her hand out for him to shake. “You were pretty messed up when Buffy brought you in.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Faith glanced at the other Slayer. They had become fairly close over the last year or so, and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Buffy. Getting Spike back, only to lose him again, only to get him back with no memory of her—Faith had no idea how she’d handle it if their positions had been reversed.

“You giving him a tour of the place?” she asked.

Buffy nodded. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be staying now, but I figured Spike should probably know where everything is.”

“And who everybody is?” Faith smiled at Spike. “Let me give you a tip. There are enough people here that you’re not going to get their names on the first try.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“You want to stay in tonight?” Faith asked. “We’ll take care of things.”

“I’d like to go.”

They both stared at Spike. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Buffy was clearly afraid of overstepping her bounds with him by telling him that he wasn’t allowed outside of the hotel.

“It might jog my memory,” Spike said. “This is what I do, right?”

“It’s what you _did_. Spike, if you don’t even remember who you are—”

“How am I going to remember how to fight?” Spike shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Faith grinned. “Take him down to the basement first, B.”

Buffy stared at her, then a smile broke out over her face. “Yeah, okay.”

“What’s in the basement?” Spike asked, following Buffy towards the door.

“Training room.”

Faith followed them down. She might feel sorry for Buffy, but she was ready to see the fireworks. As were the other Slayers who were sparring when they got down there. “Hey, Spike.” Vi grinned at him. “You’re looking a hell of a lot better.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Spike, that’s Vi. You guys worked together in Africa.” Buffy’s explanation was brief, but Faith knew that a longer one was probably out of the question for the moment. There was just too much that had happened. “Audra is the one sparring with her. You guys partnered up for a lot of stuff.”

She named off the other Slayers, proving that she’d come a long way since Sunnydale, when she’d barely known half of their names. “Leslie, Uta, Phoebe, and Caridad have been here since the beginning,” Buffy finished up.

Spike was looking more than a little overwhelmed, and Faith knew that he’d never be willing to give sparring a try with all of those eyes looking on. “Hey, guys, that’s enough for now. Get something to eat and get ready to roll.”

They didn’t question her, trooping up the stairs in a jostling, chatty pack. She and Buffy had worked out a lot of the kinks that had tripped them up in Sunnydale. The mission here was too big for one person; they had needed to split the leadership responsibilities.

“Okay, we’re good.” Faith leaned back against the wall. “Go for it.”

Spike was watching Buffy warily as she toed off her shoes. “Should I—”

“Yeah. Go ahead and take them off. Less chance of getting hurt that way.” Buffy stretched as Spike untied his laces.

“How are we doing this?” Spike asked.

Buffy shrugged. “We’ll start out slow. If it’s not coming back to you, we’ll call it quits.”

Faith could see how much Buffy wanted this—how much she wanted Spike to remember how to fight, because if he could remember that much, he might remember everything else.

She turned as she heard footsteps behind her. “Hey, Wes,” she said softly.

“What’s going on?”

“B is going to try and jog his memory.”

Wesley’s eyebrows went up. “Is that a good idea?”

“I don’t know, but they’re going to give it a try. Spike wants to go out.”

“Tonight?” Wesley’s eyes narrowed as he considered the situation. “That could be interesting.”

“Buffy wants to make sure that he’s not going to get himself killed if they get into trouble.”

He put an arm around her shoulders. “Perhaps we’d better go with them. The others should be okay on their own.”

“I’m sure.” Faith focused on Buffy and Spike, who were now circling each other warily. “Ten bucks he doesn’t remember.”

“You’re on.” Wesley smiled. “Let’s see if what they say about muscle memory is true.”

~~~~~

Spike knew that he was probably an idiot for even attempting this, but everything that Buffy had said indicated that this was what he did. He was a fighter, and if he couldn’t do that anymore, he had no idea what he would do.

Besides, Buffy looked so very sad; he wanted to make her happy—or happier.

She threw a punch that he didn’t see coming, stopping just short of his nose. Dropping back, Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Where were you just now?”

Her tone was suddenly less careful, sounding less like she was talking to a stranger and more like she was talking to a friend. She was teasing him, he realized. “Thinking about you.”

Buffy’s cheeks flushed. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

This time he saw the punch coming, although he somehow knew that she wasn’t going full out. Spike ducked and threw one of his own that Buffy easily avoided. After a few more tentative feints, he began to get into a rhythm, getting a sense for what his body could do, the power that lay in his muscles.

Suddenly, Spike realized that he was anticipating Buffy’s moves even before she made them, and she was doing the same. It was like a dance, and the occasional contact just made it that much more interesting.

He felt a grin pulling at his lips, and saw an answering smile on Buffy’s face. Her eyes were glittering in obvious pleasure, and Spike threw himself into the fight.

Buffy was the one to finally end it, getting in a roundhouse kick that put him flat on his back on the thick exercise mat. He grunted at the impact, but he was no sooner down than he saw Buffy’s hand extended. “Are you okay?” she asked anxiously.

“I’m fine.” He allowed her to help him up, clambering to his feet with a profound sense of relief. “I guess there are some things you don’t forget.”

Buffy smiled. “Looks like.” Her eyes went past him. “So, who won the bet?”

“Wes.” Spike turned to see Faith handing a tall, thin man a well-worn bill. “He said Spike would remember.”

Wesley shrugged. “The muscles remember what the mind does not.” He gave Spike a sympathetic look. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” The man appeared no more familiar than anyone else had; it was incredibly disconcerting to be continually meeting people who knew him, when he couldn’t remember faces or names. “It’s all a bit strange.”

“I’m sure.” He looked at Buffy. “Vi and Audra picked up the shipment. You both may want to think about getting something to eat before going out tonight.”

Buffy nodded. “Thanks, Wes.”

“Of course.” He glanced at Faith. “Would you like to warm up?”

Faith smirked. “Sure, but we’re on hand-to-hand today.”

Wesley grimaced. “So we are.”

Spike followed Buffy up the stairs and into the lobby before asking his question. “What did she mean about being on hand-to-hand?”

Buffy glanced at him, then smiled. “Faith is a Slayer, which means that she wins when they fight hand-to-hand. Wes is a demon with a sword, though, so they switch.”

“Did we—did we do that often?” Spike asked.

“What? Fight?” Hope kindled in her eyes. “Was it familiar? Are you remembering anything?”

He hated to disappoint her. “Not really remembering, but yes, it did feel familiar. It was like…” Spike struggled to find an analogy. “It was like pulling on a comfortable pair of jeans.”

Buffy’s eyes went to his own well-worn pair. “Oh. I get that.”

“Buffy—” He had no idea what to say to her. Spike knew that she wanted him to remember, wanted things to be like they were before, when he had no idea what that had been like. At the same time, he was drawn to her in a way he had been to no one else. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” They were alone in a hallway; Spike had only a vague idea of how they’d managed to get there, or where they were going. “I may not remember you, but I need you. You’re the only one who seems familiar.”

She blinked rapidly. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

Spike already knew that he wouldn’t try.

~~~~~

“You okay?”

Oliver’s green eyes bore a mild reproach. “You’ve already asked me that. Three times.”

“I love you, therefore I worry about you. So sue me.”

The smile that touched his lips told her that he bore her no ill will. “I understand. I won’t lie. This isn’t my preferred method of travel.”

His crutches were leaning against the seat next to him, and Dawn winced as they went over a particularly vicious bump. The buffer zone had moved since the army had first evacuated the civilians. As Buffy had cleared out the demons, the army had moved in, making sure that the area was clear for humans.

That didn’t mean that they’d done required road repairs, and she’d heard that the weather in L.A. had been weird. Giles had claimed that was normal after a major portal had been opened.

This was Dawn’s first trip to Los Angeles, however. Buffy had refused to let her get within five miles of the city, and she had refused to leave—although she’d made an exception for Christmas. They’d spent a week together in Cleveland, and then Buffy was gone again.

Dawn had been in Cleveland when she’d heard about Spike. Giles had been planning on sending Rose to visit—she was old enough to gain some experience on a Hellmouth—and so he sent Spike’s clothing along with her. Dawn, in turn, had decided to hand deliver the items.

And she didn’t care what Buffy thought about her showing up.

They stopped at the checkpoint, and she and Oliver got out of the transport. “Thanks for the ride!” she called to the driver, unloading Spike’s suitcase herself.

“Let me get that for you, miss.” The young guard took it from her and Dawn made sure her pack was secure, surreptitiously making sure that Oliver had done the same. “Do you two have someone meeting you?”

“There should be.” Dawn looked around. She’d told Vi she was coming and had asked that the woman not mention that fact to her sister. As the roar of a motor reached their ears, she smiled, relieved. “There they come.”

Vi and another Slayer came roaring up on two ATVs. “Hey, Dawn,” Vi said. “I see you brought gifts.”

“Not for you,” Dawn retorted with a grin. “Unless you were the one who asked for Oreos.”

Vi clutched her chest in mock hurt. “What? It would have killed you to remember my Doritos?”

“No, but the Doritos wouldn’t have survived the trip.” Dawn was careful not to look at Oliver. She knew that he had a bag of chips in his backpack.

He was nicer than she was, however, and the small bag of chips went flying through the air, landing in Vi’s hands. “Oh, God,” she said, sighing in ecstasy as she ripped open the bag. “Leslie, you’re driving back.”

Leslie rolled her eyes. “You’d better finish them fast. I know half a dozen girls who would fight you to the death.”

“Are things here that bad?” Dawn asked, securing Spike’s suitcase to the back of the ATV that Vi had abandoned. “I thought Giles had the supply lines going pretty good.”

“They are, but it’s just for essentials,” Vi replied, in between crunches. “That doesn’t include things like Doritos.”

“We’re fine,” Leslie assured Dawn. “I’m in the best shape of my life.”

Dawn climbed on and waited for Oliver to get on behind her. She knew that this was going to be especially uncomfortable for him, but there was nothing to be done. According to Buffy, the all-terrain vehicles were about the only things that could handle the torn up roads and piles of debris. There were a few motorbikes, but the ATVs were more practical.

“You okay back there?”

“Let’s just get there quickly.”

He kept his voice even, but his pain was evident. Dawn had tried to talk Oliver out of coming, but he’d been stubborn. Dawn had a feeling that he wanted to meet Buffy because their relationship was getting pretty serious. She was the only blood relation Dawn had left—unless you counted her father, which she didn’t.

And she wasn’t going to miss seeing Spike. Buffy would just have to deal with her presence.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Day 97: Giles has been on my case to take a break lately. I think I’m going to have to, just so he will stop mentioning it every time we talk. Besides, Dawnie wants to spend Christmas together, and I feel like we should. I haven’t seen her in months, and that’s mostly because I made Giles promise not to let her come here. She knows how dangerous it still is, so she’s agreeing—for now. I have no doubt that as soon as she decides she really wants to be here, she’ll find a way.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Buffy wanted to be upset when she saw Dawn walking into the hotel lobby, with Oliver at her heels, but she couldn’t manage it. She was too happy to see her sister to be upset.

“Dawnie.” She hugged her tight. “I thought I told you not to come.”

It was only a token protest, and Dawn seemed to understand that. “I had to see him—and you. Besides, Giles said that you’ve just about wrapped things up here.”

Buffy nodded. “Almost. Maybe another week?”

“What are you going to do after that?”

“I don’t know.” It was one of the questions that had been plaguing her. Buffy knew that they could go just about anywhere—Brazil, Africa, England, or anywhere else Giles needed two warriors. They could even stay in L.A., although she wasn’t sure that would be such a good idea once things were mopped up.

Buffy had talked to Faith, and the other Slayer wanted to open the doors of the hotel again, to do private detective work, and use that as a basis for training Slayers. She planned on using Angel’s name as a sort of memorial. Buffy couldn’t help but think that there wouldn’t be enough room for her and Spike in that situation.

“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure,” Dawn told her. “Where is he?”

“In the kitchen. Some of the Slayers who were there when he disappeared are filling him in.” Buffy forced a smile. “I haven’t really told him much yet, just the basics.” She realized that she was probably being rude. “Do you guys want something to eat, or do you just want to head up to your room?”

“I could eat,” Dawn said. “Oliver?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll take the bags up, Buffy,” Vi offered.

“Thanks.” Buffy led her sister and Oliver back towards the kitchen.

“How are you really, Buffy?” Dawn asked as they walked down the hallway.

Buffy hesitated. “I’m okay. Ellen seems to think that it’s just a matter of time before Spike remembers, and he’s been sticking pretty close to me.”

“That’s good.”

Buffy knew her sister was trying to be encouraging. “Yeah, but it’s not the same.”

They fell silent as they entered the kitchen. Spike was surrounded by half a dozen Slayers. Caridad was talking, and Buffy recognized the story she was telling immediately. She’d heard it herself any number of times.

“It was total chaos,” Caridad was saying. “You couldn’t see anyone except your partner, and that was only because Faith and Wes had hammered home how important it was to stick together. Angel was fighting the dragon, I guess, and he shielded Wes when it blew fire. That’s how he was killed and Wes got burned. You should see the scar on his arm sometime. Connor was the one who saw you get dragged through the portal, but he got separated from the rest of us. We didn’t find out until we were already in the process of closing it.”

Caridad stopped, seeing the expression on his face. “Buffy about went batshit crazy when she found out what happened. We had to close the portal, but she wanted to go in after you.”

“I should have.” Buffy spoke from the doorway of the kitchen. She cleared her throat. “Guys, this is my sister, Dawn and her boyfriend, Oliver. You all probably know that she’s stationed in Cleveland.”

There were a chorus of hellos, and Buffy watched as Dawn stared at Spike. She saw when Dawn realized what the loss of memory had done as Spike’s expression showed no sign of recognition.

“It’s good to see you again, Spike,” Dawn said softly.

He looked at Buffy, his eyes holding a plea, and then looked at Dawn again. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

“It’s okay,” Dawn said quickly. “I just wanted to see you.” She turned to Buffy. “You know, I don’t think I’m very hungry after all. Do you mind if we head upstairs?”

“Go ahead.” Buffy understood Dawn’s reaction all too well. “Les? Do you know which room they’re in?”

“Sure. I’ll show them.” Leslie led Dawn and Oliver out of the kitchen, and as though a silent signal had been given, the other Slayers filtered out one by one.

Spike looked stricken. “I didn’t handle that well.”

“You did fine. This is just hard.”

He brought his fist down on the metal counter, the sound echoing through the room. “Bloody hell.”

That brought an unwilling laugh out of her, and when he looked reproachful, she sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you really sounded like your old self.”

“What was she to me, Buffy?”

“You took care of her the summer I was gone. You were like a brother.”

“And now she’s a stranger.”

Buffy sighed. “Basically.”

Spike turned away from her. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Fear seized her in its icy grip. “Do what?”

“I can’t keep meeting people I should know but don’t.” He gripped the metal counter so hard she could hear it creak. “It’s not fair to them, an’ it’s not fair to me.”

Buffy took a deep breath. “Do you want to go somewhere else? I can talk to Giles, and you—”

“I didn’t mean for you to…” She could hear him sigh. “I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. I don’t know who I am, Buffy. I haven’t a bloody clue. There are things I know, an’ I don’t know how. Don’t know how I know I trust you, or how I knew how to kill that demon last night.”

“It’s okay, Spike.”

“The hell it is.”

Buffy’s temper flared. “Fine. It’s not okay. How the hell do you think I feel? If you think you’re the only one suffering here, think again.”

“Buffy—”

“I’m sorry.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s a fair statement.” Spike ran a hand over his face. “Just—tell me something.”

“What’s that?”

“How did we meet?” He offered her a weak smile. “I don’t even know that much.”

He didn’t know a whole lot. Buffy suddenly realized that he didn’t know about Drusilla or Angel; Spike felt no grief over Angel’s death, no guilt for his past crimes. He had a clean slate, something Buffy had often wished for.

And maybe now they could have it.

“It was before you had your soul,” Buffy said, her mind still racing. If she could convince Giles, they could go somewhere, just the two of them. They could have a week or a month—or hell, a year, if that’s what it took—to get to know one another again.

Giles had been encouraging her to get away from Los Angeles for a while. Maybe it was time to take him up on that offer.

She realized that Spike had asked her a question. “I’m sorry?”

“How long have I had my soul?”

“Two years—no, three. I think. I hate to say this, Spike, because I know it sounds lame, but this is a long story. The thing is that you came to Sunnydale, and you tried to kill me. I tried to kill you. Somewhere in there, things changed, but I don’t know where to begin.” She saw the expression on his face and held up a hand. “And trust me, ‘at the beginning’ is a lot easier said then done. A lot happened.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. We’ll start slow. Tell me about the first time we met.”

Buffy glanced around the kitchen. This wasn’t where she wanted to have this conversation. “Come on. There’s a courtyard that’s pretty nice. I’d rather be sitting down for this.”

~~~~~

Spike had left Buffy asleep in their room. Although they were ostensibly sharing a bed, he didn’t think that they had used it at the same time in the last few days since he’d awoken with no memory of who he was or how he’d come to be there.

The long conversation with Buffy in the courtyard—they had talked long after the sun had set and the moon had risen—had anchored him somewhat. There had been a lot she couldn’t tell him, but he knew enough now to have some idea of where he’d come from, and where he’d been going.

He’d known that Buffy was in love with him; that much had been obvious from the moment he woke up. What he hadn’t realized was how much he’d loved her, how far they’d come. Spike had begun to realize how much pain his inability to remember must have caused Buffy. The others, as well, but especially Buffy.

“Spike?”

He turned to see Willow. “H’lo.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

“You hungry?”

“A bit, but Buffy says it’s going to be short rations until there’s a steady supply of blood.” Spike shrugged. “I can deal with the hunger.”

Willow raised her eyebrows. “I think there’s enough in there for a meal or two. If nothing else, Giles can make sure there’s a supply in a designated area and I can transport it in. It takes a lot of energy, but it can be done.”

She was already rummaging in the fridge. Spike had seen that the kitchen was one of the gathering places in the hotel. With as many young Slayers as there were, someone was always hungry, and it was one of the larger rooms on the ground floor.

Willow set out the makings of a sandwich and a bag of blood on the counter. “Do you want it warmed up?”

“Uh, sure.” Spike would have offered to do it himself, but he wasn’t quite sure how long it was supposed to be in the microwave. That was one of the pieces of information that appeared to be missing.

He watched her silently, and she went about her preparations. Spike noticed that she was making two sandwiches, and he finally commented on it. “Hungry?”

“One’s for Oz,” she explained.

“Right.”

“Is Buffy sleeping?”

“She was when I left. I wasn’t tired.”

Willow nodded. The microwave beeped, and she handed the large mug of blood to him. “I hope that’s the right temperature. I haven’t had to do it for a while.”

The flashback hit him suddenly as she busied herself with the sandwiches again. Willow, holding him in place with magic while Buffy slowly and methodically poured holy water on him, laughing as his skin sizzled.

Spike barely managed to respond to her cheerful goodnight, and he stood frozen, hardly able to believe what he’d just seen. Had he imagined it? Had it been a nightmare? Why would he remember something like that if it hadn’t happened? And, if it had, how could he possibly reconcile his memory with the treatment he’d received from them so far?

“Breathe.”

The command was gentle, the hands that seized his upper arms warm and firm. Some of the panic left him at her touch, and he looked into a face that was strange and familiar. “I’m not—”

“You might not need to breathe, but the principle applies.” She took the mug from him, setting it on the counter before clasping his hands in hers. “You had a flashback, Spike. It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “What I saw—”

“What you saw was a glimpse of the torture you faced in that hell dimension,” she said bluntly. “It’s also why the more traditional techniques were not going to work with you.”

“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

“Come. You need to sit down, but first you need to eat. We don’t have so much blood that you can afford to let a meal go to waste.” As he drank it down, she added, “I’m Ellen. Buffy will have told you something about me.”

“You were the one who erased my memories,” he accused.

Ellen snorted. “Erased? Hardly. They’re still there, waiting for you to be ready to face them. I think you might understand why now.”

Spike still couldn’t process what he’d seen. “Buffy—and Willow—”

“They tried to break you.” Ellen paused. “It is like this—when a person’s mind can bear no more, they will go away. Spike—the person you were before you disappeared—knew that what he was seeing wasn’t real. He knew that those he loved and trusted would never do what it was he was seeing them do, and so he—you, rather—buried himself as deeply as possible, waiting until it was safe to come out.”

“If it’s safe now, why can’t I remember?”

“Because your mind still saw Buffy and Willow and the others torturing you, and it had gone on for so long that there was no way to get through to you that it _was_ safe when those were the people you kept seeing. And so, I helped you block out the torture.”

“And now I can’t remember anything.”

Her eyes were full of compassion. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“What if you hadn’t? What if you’d just waited?”

Ellen hesitated, then said, “Give me your hand.”

Her expression told him that this wasn’t going to be pleasant, but Spike thought that she might be able to help him one way or another. He held out his hand.

Ellen took it, her hands warm and slightly dry. “Close your eyes.”

And when he did so, the images flew fast and furious through his mind—he was training Slayers, fighting, watching a vampire dust with horror. Then he was in a room, crouched in a corner, with no more sense than an animal. He saw what Ellen had seen—a man lost inside his own mind, unable to break through the protective barriers that he had created.

When she released him, Spike stared at her. It took him a moment to find the words to say, but he asked, “You couldn’t have helped me? You couldn’t have broken down those walls?”

“Would you have wanted to risk madness? It is one thing to risk a human’s sanity, but a vampire’s? Would you have wanted to live that way forever?”

“No.” It felt as though the word had been torn from his lips. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed. “Don’t even know where to start.”

Ellen patted his cheek. “There is a woman upstairs who would move heaven and earth for you. Perhaps that’s where you should start.”

“She loves me.”

“She does.”

“I don’t—I’m not in love with her. I don’t feel that way. I might never feel that way.” That was his fear; Spike might not be in love with Buffy, but he didn’t want to hurt her.

Ellen shook her head. “She knows that, but it’s not going to change the way she feels. Whatever you do, Buffy will be hurt—but not having you by her side will cause greater pain.”

Spike swallowed and nodded. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all anyone can ask.”

~~~~~

Buffy tried to keep her voice low. “I want some time with just the two of us, Giles. I don’t care what you have to do. I think we deserve that much.”

“You do, Buffy, and I did promise. Just a moment.” There was a pause, and Buffy could hear him talking to someone else. “I’d like for you to stop through Bath on your way. Xander and Corey will be here in a week, and I know he mentioned wanting to see you and Willow if possible.”

Now that Buffy had made a decision, she wanted to carry it out, even though she knew that Spike would have to agree first. “Okay. It would be good to get the gang together.”

“Very well. I’ll make the other arrangements. Xander is staying for a week.”

Buffy recognized what Giles was saying. “A week in Bath is fine. I’m hoping that we’ll both be ready to teach after this, Giles. I need—”

“You need to not be on the front lines,” Giles said gently. “Of course, Buffy. If anyone deserves some time off, it’s the two of you. Give Spike my best, and tell Wes and Faith that I’ll call soon.”

Buffy hung up, and collapsed on the couch in the office. She’d spent sixteen months in Los Angeles, and they had been under siege for a good part of that time. She’d been fighting for so long that she didn’t know how to do anything else.

“Buffy?”

Spike stood in the doorway, looking awkward. “What’s up?”

“I—do you know where Dawn is? I’d like to give things another try.”

Buffy managed a smile. “I think she’s with Wesley and Faith. No one knows more about organizing a campaign than she does.”

“Uh, maybe it should wait, then.”

“She’ll make time,” Buffy said knowingly. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Spike nodded, sitting down on the other end of the couch gingerly. “Go on.”

“I talked to Giles—the head of the Council,” she reminded him, knowing that all the names probably had his head swimming. “He said we could have a break if we wanted one.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a place we went, before things got crazy, sort of a retreat,” Buffy began. “I thought we could go there again. Maybe with fewer people it would be easier, and we could get to know one another again.”

“Buffy—”

“I’m not saying that you have to feel obligated or anything,” she rushed on. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to feel something for me when you don’t. I mean you feel something or you don’t feel something, right? There’s nothing you can do about that, and—”

He moved quickly, scooting closer and putting a finger to her lips to stop her. “It’s just that I don’t want to hurt you. I know you love me, and I can’t return that, not yet. I’m not saying it won’t happen, just that I don’t want you to mistake my gratitude for love.”

Buffy choked on a sob. That was a speech that she could have—maybe should have—given _him_ once upon a time. “Oh, God, Spike.”

It was suddenly too much, and though she’d never meant to let him see her cry, she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

He didn’t say anything, merely pulled her close, cradling her head on his shoulder. For just a moment, Buffy could pretend that it was Spike—_her_ Spike—who held her, the vampire who had loved her enough to go to the end of the world for his soul.

When her tears slowed, Spike pulled back a bit. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Buffy wiped her cheeks hastily. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You were right earlier, about this not being easy for anyone.” Spike tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I think we should get away. Think it might be easier.” He paused. “There’s somethin’ you should know.”

Buffy listened as he described his flashback and his encounter with Ellen. When he was finished, she winced. “I won’t lie to you. We did some pretty awful things to each other, but if you tell me what you remember, I’ll tell you if it happened.”

“Fair enough.” His strong hand cupped her cheek, and Buffy closed her eyes.

With her eyes closed, she didn’t have to see the expression on his face—tender, but devoid of the passion and love she remembered so well and missed so much. With her eyes closed, it was just Spike’s hand on her cheek, the way he’d touched her so many times before.


	5. Chapter 5

_“Day 15: Connor was in my group tonight. I keep looking at him, trying to see Angel in him, and I can’t. Maybe it’s because he looks more like Darla, even with the dark hair, or maybe it’s because Angel didn’t raise him. That’s what Wes said when I asked, anyway. Connor and Dana seem to have bonded, and watching the two of them together is weird. It’s like they don’t know how to do anything but fight, like they don’t want to know how to do anything else. I wonder if that’s what I’ll be like without Spike around. He’s one of the few who made me feel like Buffy and the Slayer are the same person.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Wesley watched the various sparring partners with a sharp eye. Dana and Connor were going after one another again with a ferocity unmatched by any of the others; as that wasn’t unusual, he wasn’t concerned.

He did wonder sometimes whether Dana and Connor would ever be able to do anything other than hunt and kill demons. After everything that had happened to them, that seemed to be the only thing they lived for.

The other Slayers would have a choice when the National Guard declared their section of Los Angeles safe again. Leslie, he knew, would relish the chance to go to college, and he wanted to see that happen.

One of Dana’s kicks broke through Connor’s defenses, sending him flying towards another pairing. Audra and Caridad cried out, breaking off and scrambling to get out of the way. “Watch it!” Caridad shouted. “This isn’t a battle.”

“We are living in a war zone!” Dana shouted back.

“Enough!” Wesley used his best drill sergeant voice, which he had perfected over the last two years. “The rest of you—upstairs. I think that’s enough for tonight. Dana, Connor, stay.”

The two teens had similarly rebellious expressions on their faces as the others trooped up the stairs. “I think it might be a good idea if the two of you sparred separately from now on,” Wesley suggested, keeping his tone mild.

“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Connor muttered.

“You didn’t hurt anybody, Connor. You and Dana both get so caught up in the fight, however, that you don’t think about anyone around you.” When it appeared as though they were going to protest, Wesley held up a hand to cut them off. “I’m not passing judgment. I’m simply stating a fact. Now, if you want to continue, you’re more than welcome to do so.”

When they both lit up as though Christmas had come early, Wesley knew that he’d made the right decision. He had freed them from worrying about anyone else, and while they had often forgotten their surroundings, they had also held back.

“I’ll just be upstairs.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Faith greeted him as he came upstairs.

Wesley shrugged. “We’ve both tried talking to them, and they haven’t budged. This is what they want to do, what helps them. Who are we to say otherwise?”

“Fair enough.” Faith smiled. “Buffy’s talking about taking off next week. The Guard notified us that they’re opening the section up next Wednesday.”

“So soon?”

“Well, they figure we’ll be here to clean up any other messes,” Faith replied. “And we’ve been saying for the last two months that we’re almost ready to open things up.”

“We have. But Buffy’s leaving? With Spike, I presume.”

“England,” Faith said succinctly. “I think Giles finally talked her into taking a vacation. Or maybe she took him up on his offer, I don’t know.”

Wesley frowned, thinking about that fact. “Do you know where Buffy is? There’s something she needs to know before she leaves.”

“Sure. She’s in her room, or she was when I last saw her.”

“Can I meet you later?”

“Our room, thirty minutes.” Faith gave him a wicked grin, and he knew what that meant. She was definitely not interested in playing checkers

Wesley climbed the stairs to Buffy’s room and knocked on the door. She answered, looking no less tired and worried than she had before they’d found Spike. He supposed he couldn’t blame her; the situation was hardly ideal.

“Faith told me you were planning to leave next week.”

“I think we deserve some time off. Spike might not realize that, but I do.”

“You’ll have time to get to know one another again,” Wesley replied knowingly.

She gave him a pained smile. “There’s that, too.”

“Where is Spike?”

“I don’t know. He said he wanted to get some air.” She stepped aside. “Do you want to come in?”

Wesley stepped inside and took a seat on the bed. “I wanted to give you some information about a prophecy that I ran across while working for Angel.”

Buffy frowned. “Does it have something to do with Spike?”

“I think that it might. Did Angel ever say anything to you about the Shanshu prophecy?”

She shook her head and sat down next to him. “No, but we didn’t talk all that often.”

“It described a souled vampire who would eventually ‘shanshu,’” Wesley explained. “Roughly translated, it means that the vampire will live until he dies.”

A frown creased her brow. “He’ll become human?”

“That was our assumption. We also assumed that it applied to Angel, that he would one day become human. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“You think it might apply to Spike, then.”

“I do.” Wesley hesitated. “I don’t know what that means, Buffy. The prophecy indicated that the vampire in question would undergo many trials and battles before the shanshu would happen.”

Buffy laughed. “Well, I’m pretty sure Spike’s gone through enough to qualify.”

Wesley put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That was my thought. I wanted you to be aware of that before you left in case it did happen.”

Her eyes squeezed shut. “Yeah.”

“Buffy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Wesley put a brotherly arm around her shoulders. Spending over a year with someone, fighting on the same side, facing death on a nightly basis—it had a tendency to either draw people together or push them apart.

They had grown closer.

~~~~~

Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. The air was warm, the sun hot—these were things he knew even though he was unaffected. He wondered idly if that should feel strange to him, or if there was a part of him that remembered everything through the lens of being a vampire.

He’d told Buffy that he needed some air, which was true. Spike hadn’t known what to do when she started crying, so he’d done the only thing possible and held her close. Oddly enough, it had felt right, and he’d been pleased that she’d trusted him that much.

_His anger was hot and ready. All he wanted was to kill her, to see her bleeding body laying at his feet, no matter what it cost him. The chip could fry his brain, just as long as she ended up dead._

_Then he saw her tearstained face as she looked up at his approach. Sitting there on her back steps, Spike realized that he had no choice. Maybe it was fate, maybe it wasn’t, but he’d lost his heart to her somehow._

_She would treat him like dirt, and he would go on loving her._

Spike blinked. The flash of memory had been just as vivid as the one he’d had of Willow and Buffy torturing him, but this was something that had actually happened; he was certain of it. Why he’d been so angry, so ready to kill her, he didn’t know, but he’d loved her enough to comfort her then.

Automatically, Spike turned to go back to the room they had been sharing. She would be waiting for him, and the sun was beginning its descent. They would go out hunting together tonight. When they were hunting together, Spike could forget just how much he didn’t remember.

Spike opened the door of the room without bothering to knock and stopped cold at the sight of Wesley sitting next to Buffy on the bed, his arm around her shoulders. “I, uh—sorry. I should have knocked.”

He turned to go, feeling something that could only be described as jealousy. “Wait, Spike!”

Buffy’s voice held him there, although he didn’t turn around. Spike heard Wesley murmur, “Let me know if you need anything, Buffy,” then the other man brushed past him on his way out.

“Shut the door, Spike.”

For a moment, he contemplated doing as she asked—on his way out—but something held him back. As soon as it was closed, Buffy said, “You know that Wes is with Faith.”

“I know that.” He turned to look at her. “It’s just—”

“He’s like a brother,” Buffy added when he stopped, her expression one of amused exasperation.

“I know.” Gingerly, he sat down next to her. “Had another flashback.”

“What of this time?”

He heard the fear in her voice, and he knew that she didn’t particularly want to hear that he’d remembered something that looked a lot like her torturing him again. “You were sitting on a porch, crying. I was going to kill you, and then I changed my mind.”

Her expression was inscrutable. “That was when Mom was sick. I had just found out that she was going to the hospital for tests when you showed up.”

“I remember being pretty pissed off with you.”

“You’d just finished telling me about the Slayers you’d killed.” It appeared as though she was going to continue, but she stopped.

“What else?”

“I—I realized that there was something between us. I told you it was never going to happen.”

Spike didn’t think that was all of it. He remembered how angry he’d been. “That wasn’t all you said.”

Buffy gave him a sharp look, then sighed. “I told you that you were beneath me.”

“And was I?”

She gave him a quick, mischievous grin. It was an expression he didn’t remember seeing on her face before. “Well, not that night, but you were later.”

He raised an eyebrow, not quite willing to accept that answer without more. “Buffy.”

“I don’t know. We were both different people then. You didn’t have a soul, I hadn’t died yet.”

Tentatively, Spike put a hand on her back, and she leaned against him. He put an arm around her shoulders and marveled at how natural it felt. He wanted to tell her that he remembered loving her, but that it didn’t _feel_ like love from this angle.

As he was trying to figure out how to say it, there was a knock on the door, and Buffy straightened quickly. “Come in.”

Dawn poked her head inside. “Hey, guys. Mind if I go hunting with you tonight? Wesley’s going to hang here with Oliver. They’ve got Watcher-stuff to talk about.”

“Sure.” Buffy stood. “Coming?”

Spike shrugged. It didn’t appear that he had much of a choice. “Sure.”

He wondered if he’d ever had a choice.

~~~~~

Dawn had decided to stay on in Los Angeles until Buffy and Spike left for England. She and Oliver would be going to Bath with them. Dawn wanted to see the gang again; it had been a long time since they’d had the opportunity to get together. Besides, she was hoping that if she spent enough time in Spike’s company, it would jog his memory.

The situation was hard enough for her; she couldn’t imagine how her sister must be feeling.

Hunting seemed to be the best way to connect.

“Okay, we ready?” she asked, slinging the short sword and its scabbard over her hips. Dawn had already loaded up on stakes.

“Sure.” Spike lounged on the round couch in the middle of the lobby, looking a little more relaxed than he had when she’d seen him in Buffy’s room. “Might as well get goin’.”

Buffy nodded without saying anything, heading for the door. Dawn and Spike hurried to catch up, and Dawn found herself falling into a comfortable silence. From what she’d heard, they had really been able to taper off the number of patrols, and the size of the groups, over the last two months. She was grateful for that, since it meant that Buffy would allow her to join the two of them without insisting on more backup.

“How is Oliver?” Buffy asked after a half an hour of patrolling with no results.

Dawn shook her head. “He’s okay. I’m pretty sure he’s in a lot of pain, but he doesn’t like to talk about it, so I don’t ask.”

“There’s nothing the coven could do about it?”

“No. They tried, and Miriam gave him a tea helps with the pain, but it’s the way the bones healed.” She pulled a face. “I just wish his dad hadn’t been so stubborn about things.”

“Can’t they re-break the bones?”

Spike was the one to ask the question, and Dawn was a little surprised that he was participating in the conversation. He tended to do a lot of listening, probably because he had no idea who or what they were talking about.

“The bones were pretty much crushed. We talked to a surgeon, and he seemed to think it wouldn’t improve things.” Dawn sighed. “If he wasn’t in pain so often, I don’t think either one of us would care, but I hate to see him hurting.”

Buffy met her eyes, and even though she didn’t say anything, Dawn understood. Buffy clearly felt the same way about Spike, but she wasn’t going to say so in front of him.

Spike suddenly stopped, the bones in his face shifting as he brought out the demon. “We’ve got company.”

“How many?” Buffy asked.

“Just a couple.” His eyes now blue again, Spike began running, Buffy not far behind.

Dawn hurried to catch up, cursing their supernatural speed under her breath. A sound from behind her caused her to skid to a stop, and a figure landed in front of her. “Nice. Looks like I won’t have to look for my breakfast after all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. Didn’t you get the memo?”

The vampire—who looked to have been about her age when he was turned—looked puzzled. “Huh?”

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” Dawn plunged her stake into his chest as she said it, then dusted off her hands, feeling satisfied.

She hadn’t spent most of her life on a Hellmouth for nothing.

~~~~~

It was harder to say goodbye than Buffy had expected. Los Angeles, and the Hyperion, had begun to feel like home, as much as she’d hated that idea. She might have told herself over and over again that home was where Spike was, and therefore L.A. couldn’t be home, but leaving proved that wrong.

The Slayers here were her friends, her comrades. They had seen her through some of the toughest battles of her life; they had fought together, bled together, and even laughed together when circumstances allowed.

“You’re welcome back anytime,” Wesley said, giving her a hug. “You and Spike both.”

“Call if you need me for anything.” Buffy smiled, meaning the words. “I’ll come running.”

She and Faith locked eyes, and Buffy took two steps forward to pull the other Slayer into a tight embrace.

“I didn’t think we hugged.” Faith looked pleased nonetheless.

“I think we’re over that.” She said goodbye to the others. Vi and Audra would be following them back to England in a few weeks, just as soon as they were certain that the re-opening of their section had gone off without a hitch.

The big SUV had been loaded up with their luggage, and Buffy climbed in next to Spike, taking a seat in the back. “You okay?” she asked softly, seeing the look on his face as he gazed out the window.

“I’m fine.” He glanced over at her. “We’re goin’ home, aren’t we?”

Buffy didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure that England was going to feel like home, even with Spike at her side. Although it felt as though they were building a solid friendship—that could lead to his loving her again—it wasn’t the same. Their love had been built on years of shared experiences, and now they were starting from scratch.

Once upon a time, Buffy might have wished for that, might have wished that they could forget everything that had come before and have started anew. She knew better now.

Buffy knew better every time Spike looked at her. There was no real recognition in his eyes; he couldn’t possibly understand what they had been to one another.

She saw Dawn sitting next to Oliver in the seat ahead of them. He had his arm around her shoulders, and their heads were bent close together. Sitting next to them, Willow was leaning forward to talk to Oz and their driver in the front.

Closing her eyes, Buffy tried not to think about the week ahead, surrounded by her friends and family, all of them in a secure relationship.

It was going to be a long week.


	6. Chapter 6

_“Day 108: I could have sworn that I saw Spike tonight. I was out on a patrol with about 5 other Slayers, and I saw a man in black with bleached hair. I took off after him, and he ran. I know I shouldn’t have ditched my patrol group, but I was so sure… When I finally caught up to him, he turned out to be just another vampire, and he didn’t look anything like Spike up close. Wes reamed me out later in private. He accused me of trying to get myself killed, but it’s not like that.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Spike was feeling more and more uncertain about this. Things had been awkward enough in Los Angeles, but he just knew that it was going to get worse. At least at the hotel they had been surrounded by Slayers; during the trip to England, he kept getting paired up with Buffy.

And since the other four were clearly coupled up, the inference was that he and Buffy were, too.

She’d withdrawn from him, and Spike couldn’t blame her. He knew that he wasn’t the man she’d been looking for—how could he be? A person was the sum total of their experiences, and he was missing well over a hundred years of experience.

“Wait.” Buffy held him back from entering Council headquarters. She had lingered by the vehicle, as had he, although Spike suspected that their reasons were different. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“What’s that?”

“Some of the Slayers in there—you were pretty attached to them and vice versa. A lot of them have lost parents.”

Spike thought he knew where she was going with this. “You’re suggesting that I keep my memory problems to myself?”

“I think it would be best. Harry and Nora are the youngest, and we were the ones who rescued them. It’s been bad enough that we’ve been gone so long, but I think they understood that much.”

“Harry and Nora,” he repeated, trying to burn the names in his memory. “Got it.”

“I’ll help,” Buffy promised. She hesitated, then added, “We’re probably going to be sharing a room again. It will cut down on the questions.”

Spike nodded. “I think I can handle that.”

She forced a smile. “Great. Come on.”

He squared his shoulders, feeling a sense of dread pressing down. Buffy stepped inside before he did, and Spike saw the reunion taking place. A well-built man with an eye patch was hugging Buffy and Willow at the same time, with a tall, dark skinned woman looking on with affection. There were half a dozen young teens in the hallway, boys and girls, all of them clamoring for attention.

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed and claustrophobic, Spike looked around for an escape route.

“Here.” A middle-aged woman took his arm and led him aside, into a book-lined study with a large wooden desk and overstuffed furniture. “Sit down, Spike.”

“I don’t—”

“I’m Miriam, and I already know. Ellen warned me.”

He sank back into the cushions of the couch. “She told you that I don’t remember a bloody thing?”

“You’re having flashbacks, aren’t you?”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah. Just two so far, an’ they didn’t tell me anything.”

“Hm.” Miriam handed him a drink before sitting down next to him. “Drink. You look as though you could use it.”

Spike quite literally didn’t remember the last time he’d had anything other than blood to drink, but the alcohol had a familiar burn, and he felt his muscles uncoiling. “Ta.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Miriam rose. “Why don’t you stay in here and get your bearings? I’ll tell Buffy where you are.”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Appreciate that.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, wondering how on earth he was going to cope with a week like this, surrounded by strangers who knew him.

Sensing that he was being watched, Spike opened his eyes to see a small boy standing in front of him. Remembering what Buffy had said, he smiled as reassuringly as he could. “H’lo, Harry.”

A grin blossomed on the child’s face. “You remembered me!”

“Sure I did,” Spike lied, sensing that it was an important fiction. “Why wouldn’t I have?”

The child frowned. “We haven’t heard from you! You promised to write.”

“What did Miriam tell you about that?” Spike asked, hoping that his guess was correct.

Harry shrugged, pushing auburn hair out of his eyes. “She said you were somewhere bad, but that you’d come back when you could.”

“She was right. I’d have written if I could have.”

The smile he received told Spike that he’d managed to avoid bollocksing up this reunion. “Do you want to see something?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.” Spike thought this might be one thing that he could do right, when the lack of memory wouldn’t end up ruining it all.

~~~~~

Buffy pushed down a wave of panic as she realized that Spike had disappeared. Looking around, she saw no sign of him. Before she could leave to look for him, Xander grabbed her arm and steered her into a study. “I wanted to talk to you.”

She reminded herself that Spike was a big boy and would be fine. Worrying about him was stupid. “What’s up?” Buffy tried to keep her voice cheerful, as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

“How are you?”

“Fine. Great, actually.” She gave him a bright smile. “Everything is great.”

Xander gave her a look and nudged her towards the couch. “Come on, Buf. I know you better than that. Willow filled me in on what’s going on with Spike.”

“He doesn’t remember anything. There wasn’t anything we could do about that.” Buffy sat on the edge of the couch cushions, hands between her knees. Talking about what was going on between her and Spike was the last thing she wanted.

Xander put a hand on her knee. “Buffy… I know we haven’t seen each other in awhile, but you don’t have to pretend for my sake. Nobody thinks this is easy.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I can’t talk about this with you, Xander. I can’t talk about this, period. If I do—”

If she did, it would be too real, too overwhelming. The thought that Spike might never remember, that she would never get back what they had before he went missing, would cause her world to collapse. Buffy knew she was barely hanging on as it was.

In response, Xander pulled her into a tight hug, and Buffy returned the gesture, feeling his chin resting on the top of her head. “Then we won’t talk about it,” he murmured. “It’s gonna be okay, Buffy.”

She took a deep breath and pulled back. “What about you? You brought Corey back with you this time, huh?”

“Whit’s capable of holding down the fort for a week,” he replied, not answering the question. When she raised her eyebrows, Xander gave her a sheepish grin. “Things are really good. No wedding bells yet, but—it’s really good.”

“I’m so happy for you, Xander,” Buffy said sincerely.

Xander rose. “Come on. Let’s go find Willow. We can have a real Scooby meeting again now that everyone is here.”

Buffy nodded and pushed all thoughts of Spike out of her head. This week was about her friends, seeing people she loved for the first time in years. For a time, she would try to forget.

~~~~~

“What did you think?” Giles asked softly. He didn’t think that Spike knew that they were watching. He was standing in the paddock with Harry and Nora as the children fed the horses carrots.

Miriam shook her head. “If Ellen was able to do no more for him, the same certainly holds true for me. She’s the best there is at this sort of thing.”

“Do you think he’ll remember?”

“According to Ellen, he’s already beginning to have flashbacks. I think that’s a good sign.”

“How is Buffy?”

Miriam shook her head. “That I couldn’t tell you, I’m afraid. Ellen’s report suggests that her emotional state is extremely fragile. She’s had to deal with a lot in the last few years with no breaks.”

“I want both her and Spike here after their vacation,” Giles admitted. “They both deserve the break, and she’s been on the front lines all too often in the last years.”

“I think that’s a wise decision.” Miriam began to walk towards Spike and the children. “I’ll let them know that it’s time for dinner.”

Giles watched her go, deciding to wait where he was. He had no idea how Miriam had managed it, but he’d grown quite fond of Harry and Nora. Having them around was a tangible reminder of what they were fighting for.

Although he couldn’t hear what they were saying, he watched as Spike bent down far enough to allow Harry to scramble onto his back. The sight gave Giles some hope that the vampire would eventually remember and return to his old self; he didn’t seem to be that different.

And if he didn’t—Giles feared what that would do to Buffy.

~~~~~

Abby straightened her spine before knocking on Giles’ door. She’d noticed at dinner that he seemed to be in a particularly good mood, probably because the mess in L.A. had finally been cleared up. She knew that Gunn and Fred were talking about going back as soon as Spike and Buffy went back to teaching full time.

She wanted to go back with them.

“Come in!” Giles looked up as she entered, his eyebrows going up. “Abigail. I was wondering when you would be coming by.”

Her carefully prepared speech went flying out of her head. “What?”

“You want to go back to Los Angeles, don’t you?”

Abby sat down across from him. “How did you know?”

“Because you’ve made the same request half a dozen times, and things are beginning to settle down to the point where there is actually the possibility that you could.” Giles smiled. “I could see you watching Spike tonight.”

“I heard he doesn’t remember anything,” Abby said, curiosity getting the better of her.

The head Watcher frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

Abby had the grace to blush. “Gunn was telling Fred about it, and I overheard. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “You’re hardly the first Slayer with a propensity towards eavesdropping.” His tone was severe, but she could see the twinkle in his eyes that indicated that he wasn’t too upset. “Please don’t pass that information along. We’d like to keep it quiet.”

“I haven’t told anybody,” she assured him. “So, can I go back?”

“Do you not like it here?”

Abby shook her head. “No! This place has been great. It’s just—I feel like I owe them.”

“That you owe whom?”

Abby wasn’t sure how to explain it. Wesley had been the one to rescue her, the one to convince her father to let her go. It was because of him that she’d experienced some of the happiest times in her life. “I don’t know.”

Apparently taking pity on her inability to voice her feelings, Giles nodded. “When Fred and Gunn return, you may go with them if that’s your desire. You’ll still be required to go to school, however. Wesley and Faith will continue your training, but there won’t be nearly as many Slayers your age around. You understand that if you do return, I’ll be making a special dispensation. You’re still underage.”

“I’m nearly fifteen!” she protested. “And I helped Spike on his assassination mission. I would have—”

“Your bravery is not in question,” Giles said gently. “But the age restrictions are there for a reason. If you go back, you’ll have to abide by Faith and Wesley’s rules in that area. Do you think you can do that?”

Abby nodded. “Of course.”

“Very well. I’ll discuss the matter with Fred and Gunn.”

Abby knew a dismissal when she heard one, and she headed out of the office, waiting until she was in the hallway before she grinned. There was no question in her mind that she was going home.

~~~~~

“How long do you think it’ll be?”

“You sound anxious to get back.”

“You know I have permission to start up my doctorate again. I’ve just been waiting.” Fred rolled over to look at Gunn. “I just wanted to see what happened with everybody first.”

Gunn sighed. “I know.”

Fred shut her mouth, knowing that it had been harder on Gunn than on her in many ways. Giles had asked them to accompany Abby back to England, and to bring whatever information she had gathered on Slayer blood. With that information, the coven had been able to concoct a spell that would locate Slayers as soon as they were called. There was a team of active Slayers and Watchers who were responsible just for contacting those girls and their families.

Once they had finished that, however, it had become obvious that Spike and Buffy weren’t coming back for a while, and Giles had been short of teachers. They had agreed to teach until Spike and Buffy returned, or until Giles could find replacements.

She had loved their time in England, but Gunn had missed the action he knew they would have seen in Los Angeles.

Fred was ready to go back now, though. They had been gone long enough, and she did want to finish her doctorate. Now that her old professor was dead, there would be no fear that she would get sucked into another hell dimension.

“Did you get a chance to talk to Spike at all?” she asked, changing the subject.

“No. Didn’t know him all that well, and there were plenty of other demands for his time.” Gunn tugged her closer. “Promise you won’t forget me.”

Fred buried her face in his shoulder, feeling strong arms pulling her close. “I promise.”

~~~~~

Spike stared at the double bed in some consternation. No one had asked whether he and Buffy wanted to share a room, and he had no idea if there was even an extra room to be had. At the hotel, the bed had been bigger, and there had been a number of nights where one or the other of them found another room.

“I can stay with one of the other Slayers if you want.”

He turned to see Buffy shut the door behind her, standing just inside. “Most of your clothes are still here,” she explained. “Mine are still in my suitcase.”

“You didn’t leave clothing here?”

“I had Giles send most of it to L.A. And we went through clothes pretty quickly.” She looked down at her jeans, t-shirt, and heavy boots with a self-deprecating expression. “I should probably go shopping.”

Spike walked over to the wardrobe and opened the doors. He could see a sparse collection of men’s clothing that he was certain would fit him. There were a few blouses and skirts that obviously belonged to Buffy. “Some of your stuff is still here.”

“I left the nice things behind. There wasn’t anybody who was going to care if I dressed up.”

Spike faced her, comparing the face of the woman standing in front of him to the face he remembered from his flashback. She looked older, but that wasn’t surprising; time had passed. Buffy looked more worn, however, and she wore little makeup. With a flash of insight, Spike realized that she hadn’t put much thought into her appearance over the past two weeks that he actually remembered spending time with her.

He suddenly understood the concerned looks that Xander and Giles had given her. Spike might not know them well anymore, but he’d been able to read that much.

“What do you want, Buffy?” he asked.

Her lips tightened. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

There was a flash of anger in her eyes, then it was gone, replaced by a deeply profound sadness. “You can’t give me what I want, Spike.”

“Then name something I can give you.” Nothing made sense to him these days, but Spike knew one thing in that moment—maybe he couldn’t remember her, but he could try to love her. It’s what she seemed to want, and he’d loved her once before.

Maybe he could again.

“Just—stay with me tonight?” she asked, a pleading note in her voice.

Spike smiled. “I can do that.”

He just hoped that someday he’d be able to do more.


	7. Chapter 7

_“Day 112: I had this dream last night, or maybe it was more like a memory. Spike and I were in the Lake District again, in the little house that Dawn had rented for us. It all felt so real—I could even smell him. When I woke up this morning and realized that it was just a dream, I gave serious thought to jumping off the roof of the hotel.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Dawn sat down next to Oliver in the window seat of the Council library. The east-facing window generally had a spectacular view of the sunrise, assuming that it wasn’t overcast, and he was more of a morning person. Then again, he didn’t have to be out late patrolling, so he had the opportunity.

“Ready to go back?” she asked softly. Cleveland definitely felt like home now, although being back in England was nice, and having the opportunity to see everyone again was even better. Dawn knew that Giles had spoken to Willow and Oz about going to Cleveland with them, at least for a little while. Faith and Wes appeared to have things under control in L.A., and Zoë and Arnold were doing really well in Brazil.

In a couple of days, they would all disperse, and her sister would take Spike north, where he would hopefully recover his memories sooner, rather than later.

“I am.”

“I wondered if you would want to,” she admitted. “I mean, England is home for you.”

Oliver shook his head. “No, not really. My parents are gone, and we didn’t have a lot of family here.” He smiled. “Besides, you’re in Cleveland.”

“You’re sweet.”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

Dawn didn’t respond; they’d had this argument in the past. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, actually. Miriam had the coven working on some new medications that took care of most of the pain. Since they’re topical applications, I don’t have to be concerned with having my wits dulled.”

“You certainly can’t afford to have your wits any duller,” Dawn teased.

Oliver moved quickly, his fingers finding the most ticklish place on her sides, causing her to shriek with laughter. Dawn quickly stifled it, and tried to get away from his merciless assault. When Oliver finally stopped, he was half on top of her, his thumb just brushing the underside of her breast.

Their laughter died, the mood changing entirely. His lips were bare centimeters from hers when Dawn heard a cough. She glanced over to see Spike standing there, clearly torn between amusement and embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t realize the room was occupied.”

Oliver sat up quickly. “It’s, uh, not. We were just…”

“Going back to our room,” Dawn filled in, giving Spike a brilliant smile. “Excuse us.”

Dawn felt slightly guilty for leaving the room, knowing that she was going back to Cleveland the next day, and that it would likely be quite some time before she saw Spike again. He wasn’t really Spike anymore, however. He looked like Spike, and sounded like Spike, but there was no recognition in his gaze, no affection in his smile.

In a way, Dawn was grateful that she could leave and allow Spike to recover his memories without having to be around in the interim. She suspected that Buffy would prefer to do the same.

~~~~~

“How long do you think you’ll be there?” Giles asked, pouring himself a drink.

Buffy’s sigh was loud in the quiet study. “A week? A month? Hell, I don’t know. It depends.”

He hesitated to press her, knowing that they had not yet completely repaired their relationship. “I don’t want you to think that I’m requiring you to set a timeframe, Buffy. I’m just curious as to what sort of criteria you’re setting as far as when you’ll be ready to return.”

“I don’t know.” She sounded frustrated, but Giles sensed that it wasn’t in relation to him. “I guess it depends on how things go. If being away isn’t helping, we’ll probably come back sooner.”

“And what will you do if it doesn’t help?” he asked gently.

Buffy looked stricken. “If it doesn’t help, I’ll probably ask you to find somewhere else for me to go.”

Giles felt an enormous sympathy for his Slayer. He could sense her sadness and her fear, and he wished there was something he could do to ease her pain—but there wasn’t.

“I’ll do whatever you ask, Buffy.”

“Thanks.” She rose. “I should make sure we’re packed.”

He let her go and went back to his planning. Although things were better than they had been, there was still much to consider. Slayers had to be rotated in and out of hot zones. He’d learned the importance of giving the girls time for rest and recreation after his years as Buffy’s Watcher, and he did his best to apply those principles now.

Audra and Vi would be arriving shortly; they would take Fred and Gunn’s places as that pair went back to Los Angeles. Dawn and Oliver would be fine in Cleveland with Willow and Oz, and things in Brazil and Munich were going well.

There were other Hellmouths, of course, other places in the world where Slayers were required. Giles focused on those areas, wanting to be sure that the available talent pool was distributed in the most effective manner.

As always, he could forget how he’d failed his Slayer by concentrating on the task at hand, at least for a short time.

~~~~~

In a way, it had been like old times, hanging out with Willow, Oz, and Xander, even with the addition of Corey. Buffy liked Xander’s girlfriend; she was smart, funny, and really good for him; Buffy would have liked her for that reason alone.

So much had happened in the last couple of years, though, and they faced separation once again at the end of the week, that the feeling was noticeably different. Buffy noticed it, anyway, even if the others hadn’t.

Plus, Buffy couldn’t quite shake the melancholy that had settled over her. She and Spike were doing okay; she was growing used to his standoffishness and the way he kept to his own side of the bed. She no longer felt a pang of regret every time he looked at her with that strange, unfamiliar expression.

Buffy had decided that a large part of her problem was that Spike had never been indifferent to her; he had hated her, and he had loved her, but he had never treated her with the casual regard one might give an acquaintance.

She wondered if they were doing the right thing by leaving; this vacation could easily end up driving them apart, rather than bringing them together.

“You ready to go?”

She turned to see Willow lingering in the doorway. “Yeah, I think so. That shopping trip helped.”

It had been a girls-only trip with her, Willow, Dawn and Corey, and it had given her a much-needed break from thinking about all that had happened, and everything that had changed. It had also allowed her to restock her depleted wardrobe.

Buffy didn’t think she’d ever been reduced to a few pairs of well-worn jeans and a few shirts before, not to mention how many pairs of shoes had been ruined in L.A.

“Same here.” Willow entered the room and sat on the bed hesitantly. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? I’m wondering why I even bother.”

Willow didn’t ask her to clarify; Buffy knew that the other woman understood. “Because when Spike regains his memories, it will all be worth it?”

“_If_ he does,” Buffy muttered.

Willow was silent, clearly sensing that Buffy had had her fill of platitudes and reassuring comments about how much Spike had loved her, and how he was a fighter. “What will you do if he doesn’t?”

No one other than Giles had asked her that question yet, and Buffy was absurdly grateful to finally have someone else acknowledge the possibility. “I don’t know.” She snorted. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“It makes sense. All you’ve really had to think about was fighting demons for the last year. Now there are all kinds of options.”

Buffy forced a smile. “Yeah. I definitely have options now.”

A brief knock sounded on the door, and Nora poked her head in. “Giles said to tell you that the car is ready, Buffy.”

“Thanks, Nora.”

Buffy met Willow’s eyes, and they hugged. “Thanks.”

Willow pulled back. “For what?”

“For staying with me.”

The witch smiled. “What else are friends for?”

~~~~~

Spike stared out the window of the train, not really seeing the scenery. The last week had been strange, and almost surreal. He didn’t think that anyone who had not been informed of his memory loss would have sensed any difference, but his relationship with Buffy had become strained.

He knew that the more time went by without him regaining his memories, the harder it became for her, and Spike sensed that if they left the Lake District with things the way they were now, Buffy wouldn’t stay with him.

“Are you okay?”

He turned to face her. She was sitting in the seat next to him, her expression inscrutable. “Sure. You?”

She nodded, looking past him to the scenery whizzing by. “Yeah. It’s been a long time since I had a vacation. This should be great.”

“Right.”

The awkward silence that fell had Spike searching for something, anything to say. They could hardly get to know one another again if they couldn’t speak to each other. “Have you spoken with anyone in Los Angeles?”

Buffy appeared startled, as though she hadn’t been expecting him to initiate conversation. Now that he thought about it, Spike realized that he hadn’t. “I emailed Faith before we left Bath,” she admitted. “The reopening of their section went off without a hitch, and Fred and Gunn got back okay. She said it was probably a good thing that Abby had to stay in England for school right now, though. Things at the hotel are still unsettled.”

Spike cleared his throat. “Someone in L.A. mentioned something about Abby being with me right before I disappeared.”

“Angel figured out that the Black Thorn was going to start an apocalypse, and you guys made a preemptive strike. She went with you to rescue a baby and kill the Fell Brethren.”

“Is that all I ever was?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed in concern.

“A killer?”

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again just as quickly. “No,” she said finally. “From what I know, you were a good man before you were turned, and even before you got your soul, you were doing the right thing. Most of the time.”

The last bit was said wryly, with a nostalgic smile that made Spike wish he knew what she was referring to. It was a little like being in a room full of people who knew one another and continued to use inside jokes. When she did that, Spike felt as though the walls between them were too thick to ever break through.

Then again, there were other times that he got the impression that they had been two united against the world, and that Buffy believed herself to be completely alone now.

“What were you like before you were the Slayer?”

Buffy let out a little laugh. “You never asked me about that before.”

For some reason, that pleased him. “Oh?”

“I guess there was never a reason for you to ask.” Buffy leaned back in her seat, a little smile playing around her lips. “I was pretty awful, really.”

He shifted so that he was facing her as much as possible. “I find that hard to believe.”

She flushed a little with pleasure and shook her head. “Believe me. I was incredibly shallow.” Pausing, she added, “I’m not sure how to explain it, really. There isn’t a reference point. All I cared about were clothes, boys, and how popular I was.”

“And then what?”

“Then I became the Slayer, and suddenly it was all life and death, all the time.”

“Do you regret it?”

Buffy blinked, looking a little teary. “You did ask me that before.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I couldn’t regret being the Slayer because I wouldn’t have had Dawn—or you—otherwise.”

Spike reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers, pleased when she squeezed his hand and leaned her head against his shoulder.

~~~~~

Giles had somehow managed to rent the same small cottage that Dawn had, and Buffy wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. There were memories in every corner of the time they’d spent there—making love, talking, lying in comfortable silence.

And yet being here again gave her hope. If it had been that good then, what was to say it couldn’t be that good again? They had dealt with so many obstacles and overcome every one. They could do it again.

“There’s only one bedroom,” she said apologetically as he put his bag down by the bed. When Spike didn’t answer right away, Buffy took a step towards him. “Spike?”

He stood, frozen, and she moved to stand in front of him. His eyes were very far away, and Buffy touched his arm. He had reached for her on the train, which gave her hope that they would somehow manage to bridge the gulf between them. “Spike?”

“We came here.”

Hope leapt in her chest. “Yes.”

“And then—then we went to get Harry and Nora.”

Buffy nodded. “Yes. You remember?”

“I remember that much.” He glanced at the bed, and his eyes darkened with desire, a sight so familiar that Buffy felt her breath catch. “How long were we here?”

“Five nights, four days. I made Giles let you come to Scotland with me to get Nora and Harry.” She took a breath. “What else?”

He shook his head. “That’s all.” Spike raised his eyebrows. “Did we go anywhere else while we were here?”

“The pub down in the village,” Buffy admitted. “Do you—do you want to go?”

“Maybe later.” Spike wandered away from her. “Where else were we together?”

Buffy had never wished that Sunnydale was still in existence more than in that moment. “We weren’t. A few days in Osmotherley, a little time in Bath, a long weekend in Munich. That’s about it since you came back.”

She had told him about his death and the amulet, and she’d told him about Sunnydale. She wondered if he understood how little time they’d had together.

~~~~~

Spike had thought that it was all coming back to him for a moment. For one, brief flash, he could see it all—their time in the cottage, the trip to Dunham, collecting Harry and Nora. He’d almost been able to recapture all those old feelings, too, including the love and easy camaraderie he’d shared with Buffy.

But it had passed, leaving him feeling even emptier when it was gone.

When Buffy had prodded him about going to the pub, clearly in the hope that it would bring back more of his memories, Spike had finally agreed. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how they were supposed to spend the next days or weeks together alone, and being around other people could only help in his mind.

They were hailed by the proprietor cheerfully when they entered, although Spike didn’t think it was because the woman remembered them. Buffy ordered drinks for both of them, and they found a quiet corner.

“How long are you two staying?” the barmaid asked when she brought their drinks.

Buffy smiled, and Spike wondered if the woman saw how forced the expression was. “We’re not sure yet. We’ve both got a lot of vacation saved up.”

They made more pleasant conversation about the weather and sightseeing opportunities, although Spike soon tuned them out, too lost in his own thoughts to pay attention to small talk.

“Earth to Spike.” He glanced up to see Buffy watching him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’m not really thinking of much of anything, to be honest.” He hesitated. “Is there something we didn’t ever do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel as though I’m trying to fill someone else’s shoes. Maybe if we did something new, something we’ve never done before.”

Her expression turned considering. “We never went dancing.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.”

“You said all we’d ever done was dance,” Buffy murmured. “And we never dated, not in any usual sense.”

Spike suddenly saw how he might manage this—how he might forge a connection with her that was his alone, with no thought for the man he had been.

“Then maybe it’s time to start.”


	8. Chapter 8

  
_“Day 365: We’ve been here for a year now. It feels longer. Some days I can’t remember doing anything else; some days I wonder if everything before this was just a dream. If it wasn’t for the others—Faith and Wes and Vi and Audra—I think I would forget what it’s like to do anything but kill demons.” ~Excerpt from Buffy Summers’ diary_

“Have you heard from them?”

Giles looked over at Miriam. “Who?”

Her expression suggested that he was being particularly dense. “Spike and Buffy.”

“They arrived safely and are settling in. Buffy is unlikely to tell me more than that, and she is quite capable of deciding when to come back on her own.” Giles leaned back in his seat. “Besides, there are quite a few places I’m currently trying to keep tabs on. The Cleveland Hellmouth is very active at present, demon activity in South America is holding steady, Africa is largely under control—thank goodness—and Davis is still playing the ass in Munich.”

“You’re forgetting the Brachen in London.”

“I’m doing no such thing.” Giles smiled. “The Brachen are doing quite well, and they should have no trouble getting our new Slayer out of China. Arless tells me that he knows someone who knows someone, or something to that effect. She’ll arrive within the week.”

Miriam raised her eyebrows. “Most impressive.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

Giles went back to his paperwork, fully aware that Miriam was still there, biding her time. He suspected that she wasn’t quite as sanguine about Buffy’s situation as she liked to pretend, and he could understand why. Although there truly wasn’t anything else she could have done, that fact didn’t necessarily change the way one felt after making a difficult decision that resulted in terrible consequences.

“Have you seen anything in the bowl?” he finally asked, pretending nonchalance and keeping his eyes on the desk.

“No. It’s been quite dark of late.”

Giles’ head shot up. “That can’t be good.”

Miriam pursed her lips. “It’s not as bad as you might think. It may simply mean that there are no truly pivotal events coming up.”

“Or?”

“Or it could mean that we cannot do anything to change what is coming.” Miriam sighed. “I wish I knew which it was.”

Giles couldn’t help but wish for the same.

~~~~~

Buffy finished writing her email to Faith and hit send. It sounded as though Angel Investigations, Inc. was almost getting more business than it could handle, and the Slayers were being kept busy. Faith’s off-handed comment about how she and Wesley had managed to take an evening off recently told Buffy that the other Slayer’s personal life was probably going better than hers was.

She tried not to be resentful of that fact; Faith deserved a little happiness.

Buffy sighed, glancing at the closed door of their bedroom. She’d used the morning to catch up on her correspondence, leaving Spike to sleep in. Since he had come to bed after she’d gone to sleep, Buffy suspected that he needed it.

He had been a little more comfortable in her presence over the last week, at least. They had spent a lot of time playing tourists—going to see historical sites, driving up to Keswick and hitting the clubs, even going to the theater.

Spike’s choices had been interesting; most of the selections he’d made had surprised Buffy. He had been the one to decide on the historical areas, but maybe that was because he didn’t remember and should have.

They were slowly getting to know one another again, and Buffy had discovered that she was grateful for it. A lot had happened to her in the last year, and sometimes she wondered if she was the same girl who had watched Spike go up in flames in Sunnydale.

So, maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t remember her.

“Anything interesting happen?”

Buffy turned to see him emerge from the bedroom, looking sleepy and rumpled. “No. Faith said that everyone in L.A. is still in one piece, Dawn informed me that Oliver is currently pissing her off, and Willow is tired of playing mediator.”

Spike frowned. “What are they fighting about?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “She’s just generally irritated with him. He doesn’t pick up his wet towels, he gets cranky when a patrol runs late, and he can be bossy. Willow informs me that while the part about the wet towels is true, Oliver is worried because demon activity is picking up and he thinks Dawn is taking too many chances.”

“Is she?”

Buffy shrugged. “How would I know? The only good thing about being this far away is that I can avoid the worry. I love my sister, but she hates it when people try to protect her.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you?”

“I’m the Slayer. There isn’t anyone who tries to protect me anymore. The last person who tried died.”

“Who was that?”

“Angel.”

“I didn’t try?”

“You watched my back. There’s a fine line, but you somehow managed to stay on the right side of it.”

Spike sprawled out on the couch, looking contented for once. “What are we doin’ today?”

“It’s your turn to pick.”

“Maybe we could go up to Keswick again. I liked that club, an’ I wouldn’t mind dancing with you again.”

Buffy nodded. “Sure. We can do that.”

“I meant to ask you.” Spike held up the crystal that had been her only source of hope during the long months in Los Angeles. “What is this?”

She swallowed. “Where did you find that?”

“You left it on the bedside table.”

Buffy had meant to put it back in her pocket, but clearly she’d forgotten. “It’s tied to your ring,” she finally admitted. “As long as it was glowing, I knew you were alive.”

“Then you don’t need it anymore.” She didn’t, but that didn’t mean she wanted to get rid of it. Her expression must have communicated that fact, because Spike rose, putting the crystal in her hand. “It’s still important to you,” he observed.

Buffy closed her fist around it. “Sort of a lucky charm.”

Spike’s long fingers closed around her hand, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m going to shower.”

She looked at the crystal again as soon as she heard the door close behind him. After a moment’s consideration, Buffy went into the bedroom and tucked it into her suitcase. Maybe it was time to try and move on.

Maybe she could still recapture something of the girl she’d once been.

~~~~~

There was something different about Buffy, Spike thought as he watched her dance with abandon. Gone was the edge of melancholy that had haunted her since he’d awoken next to her, replaced by a determined perkiness.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with her, to be honest, but he was enjoying himself.

Hands on her waist, he watched as she turned in his arms, her back to him now. The grinding of her hips had his jeans becoming uncomfortably tight, but he didn’t try to move away. Some of her attitude seemed to have infected him, and he ran his hands up her sides, feeling her ribs.

She was too thin, he thought. Worry and care had worn her down, and he wasn’t helping matters any. His mind’s stubborn refusal to remember anything more than brief flashes was frustrating to say the least.

Re-focusing on Buffy, Spike decided that none of that mattered right now.

The girl in his arms was a marvelous distraction; he lost himself in the sight of her blonde hair spilling down her back and his arms. He could smell her perfume and sweat, as well as the people gyrating around them.

Even that much faded away, however, as another flashback hit him like a freight train. Buffy was skewering him with a red hot poker over and over again as he hung by his wrists from the ceiling, making him dance in pain.

“Spike!”

He blinked, seeing Buffy standing in front of him, her hands gripping his forearms. “Buffy?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Where did you go just now?”

“Nowhere pleasant. You want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

Spike had money. Giles had explained that he’d still been drawing the same salary while he was gone—something about danger pay, although he didn’t really understand what was meant by that. All he knew was that he had enough to buy them both a drink now, and that was all he cared about at present.

He knew he should tell Buffy about what he’d seen, but Spike had told her about two other flashbacks in which she had starred as his tormentor, and he knew how much it hurt her to hear.

Spike knew her well enough to know that she hadn’t done any of those things.

Taking the two beers, Spike headed back through the crowd towards where he’d last seen Buffy. She was still dancing as though she hadn’t a care in the world, and he paused to admire her—although he certainly wasn’t the only one.

One of the men in the crowd approached her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Buffy smiled and shook her head, sidestepping him and continuing to dance by herself.

Spike was suddenly transported to another time, and another crowded club, watching her dance. Watching and knowing that he was going to kill her.

He shook off the memory and saw Buffy heading in his direction. The smile she gave him was both pleased and possessive. “Thanks.” She took one of the bottles from him. “Let’s find a quiet corner.”

“Don’t think one of those exists in this place.” Spike had to lean close and nearly shout to make himself heard.

“You might be surprised.” She took his hand to lead him through the crush. Spike held on tightly, not expecting her to lead him through a back hallway and out an exit. “This is about the only quiet corner there is.”

“We’ll have to pay the cover all over again.”

“We’re not going back in.” Buffy leaned up against the wall. “I saw the look on your face in there, Spike. You had another flashback.”

“The usual.” He concentrated on the bottle he held. “You don’t need to hear it.”

“Spike—”

“It hurts you to hear, and I know it wasn’t really you, so let’s not get into it.”

“You had another one.”

“Think it was of the first time I saw you. I wanted to kill you.”

“Well, you were evil then, so I’m not surprised.”

“If we do this, you have to know that I might never be him again.” Spike thought she deserved the warning. He liked her, and he was attracted to her, but he didn’t think it was the same. There was at least a chance that it never would be.

“I don’t care.”

Her eyes were enormous, luminous in the light of the street lamps that filtered into the alley, and Spike leaned in, drawn to her as iron to a lodestone. Her touch was familiar and not at the same time, and he moved tentatively, feeling his way.

Pulling back, Spike met her eyes. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Can we do that again?”

His lips touched hers again, more decisively this time. Her hands gripped his shoulders, then moved down his arms. Her caress sent a shudder of desire through him.

Everything she did, every touch, lit a new fire. For a moment, he remembered another alley, another kiss, just as passionate, but then even that was gone.

Even if he didn’t remember her, it was clear to him at that moment that she was in his blood, under his skin, and he would never be rid of her. Whether or not he had ever had a choice, Spike didn’t know, but he had none now. Call it destiny, call it fate, but he knew that Buffy was everything to him.

He finally surrendered to the inevitable.

~~~~~

Buffy knew it was a miracle that they’d even made it back to their rented cottage. They’d had sex in stranger places than an alley outside a club, but in a way, this would be their first time, and Buffy didn’t want this to be just another quickie in an alley.

She wanted a bed; she wanted him to make love to her, as she’d learned to let him do. Buffy wanted sex to forge a connection that had been missing since the day she’d found him.

At first, she had thought that’s exactly what it was going to be. After the first, tentative kiss, Spike had dived in, giving it his all in a way that was entirely familiar. If there was any awkwardness, she ignored it in favor of focusing on the familiarity and the pleasure filling her body.

The silence on the way back to the cottage felt comfortable, the distance between them reduced to something manageable. Spike drove—apparently that skill set was very much like fighting, and so it hadn’t taken him long at all to remember, or relearn. Buffy couldn’t help but stare at his hands on the steering wheel and think about what it would feel like to have them on her.

It had been entirely too long since she’d had sex, and she’d been fantasizing about this for months—or years. It might have been years at this point.

Later, she would wonder if that’s what had happened. Had she built it up so much in her mind that there was no way reality could possibly fulfill her expectations? Or was it simply because it was so much like the first time for Spike?

Where once he’d known her body as well as his own, now he was exploring as if for the first time. Instead of coming together like two long-time lovers, he acted as a stranger to her form.

Buffy supposed that it was only to be expected—not only did Spike not remember having sex with her, he didn’t remember having sex with anyone else either. Although he clearly wasn’t a complete novice in the bedroom, he was certainly not up to the expert level that Buffy remembered so fondly.

In the end, he left her satisfied, but hardly fulfilled.

Buffy lay there, next to his sleeping form, trying to fight the tears that threatened, wondering if this was going to be impossible after all. Maybe she had moved too fast, pushed him too hard. Maybe she shouldn’t have expected everything to be okay after less than a month, but this was Spike.

Granted, he’d been crazy in the basement for quite awhile, but she’d left him down there; Buffy was doing everything she could, everything she could think of, and she didn’t know that it was going to be enough.

If not for him, then for her. Buffy wasn’t sure if she could ever give up on the memory of what they’d had, or if the loss would forever haunt her, leaving her incapable of happiness.

Not wanting to disturb him, Buffy disentangled herself from the covers and reached for the robe hanging from the bedpost. She drew it around herself and padded to the bathroom. It was probably either too late or too early to draw a bath, but she’d shot her sleep schedule all to hell years ago, and Buffy hadn’t quite gotten sick of bubble baths yet.

Sixteen months in a war zone with limited hot water tended to make a person appreciate all sorts of things.

She was waiting for the tub to fill up when she heard a knock on the door. “Come on in, Spike.”

“You okay?” he asked, poking his head inside.

Buffy forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry if I woke you. I just couldn’t sleep.”

He stepped inside. “Something I can do to help?”

She straightened. “No, not really.” For a moment, she considered asking him to join her, but decided that she’d rather have the alone time. Turning, she reached for soap and her razor. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”

He was silent, and she turned to face him once again, thinking that she’d offended him somehow. “Spike?”

His expression was hard, and he shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

Buffy blinked. “What? What did you—”

“Is this good for either of us? Waiting for something that might never happen, trying to find a connection that doesn’t exist anymore?”

She felt as though he’d sucker punched her. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I do.” He took a step backwards. “I’m gonna go. I need some air.”

Spike was gone before she could call him back and try to find out what he’d seen. Buffy had no idea what had just happened, but she didn’t believe he’d meant it, not when she suspected he’d just had another flashback.

What had he seen? What sin of theirs was coming back to haunt them now?


	9. Chapter 9

  
_“Day 380: We lost another Slayer tonight. It had been a while, and it was my fault. I was the one who said it would be okay for Anna to go out with Jayna and Kerry. I should have sent someone more experienced. All three of them just arrived in the last couple of weeks, and I know better. I just didn’t think about it. I was too busy missing Spike. It’s been worse recently, and I have no idea why. Maybe Faith was right. Maybe it’s time to let go.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

He ran from her, from the vision he’d seen—another bathroom, a different colored robe, and Buffy on the floor under him as he scrabbled at her chest like an animal. Real or not, it had hit them that perhaps Buffy felt something for him that was less than healthy.

Whenever it had happened, Spike knew he’d tried to rape her, and he remembered the words that had echoed in that small room: “Ask me again why I could never love you.”

But she had loved him.

Spike stopped on the moor and dropped to his knees. Buffy had told him a lot, but she hadn’t mentioned that—she hadn’t said that he’d tried to rape her, and how close he’d come to succeeding.

His words had hurt her; he’d seen that much. Spike hadn’t known what else to say, though. She clearly needed protection from him.

Staring at the ring on his hand, the thought occurred to him that all he would have to do was to take it off and stay out on the moor until sunrise. He would be gone, and Buffy would be free of him.

It might be for the best.

~~~~~

Buffy had taken her bath for lack of anything better to do. She’d run it, the water was hot and ready, and Spike was gone.

She decided that she didn’t care where he had run off to; he was the one who had left.

Buffy wasn’t sure how many more times she could do this. How many more times could she find Spike only to lose him again? She’d half-decided that when Spike returned, she would tell him that she was done. She would call Giles and ask for that transfer. She’d go anywhere there were demons to kill, and she would try to move on with her life.

Sleep remained elusive, and Buffy puttered around the cottage, trying to keep her mind off of Spike’s flight. She answered emails, cleaned up the bedroom, picked up Spike’s clothes from the floor, and scrubbed the dirty dishes that had piled up over the last couple of days.

Once that was done, the sun had risen and the morning was half over.

There was nothing else to be done, and although she knew that she probably needed to eat, Buffy had no appetite. For a moment, she closed her eyes, considering what a life without Spike would look like.

She couldn’t fathom it.

There was one thing she could think of to try—one final attempt to forge some kind of connection with Spike, driving home how much she needed him. If he could just understood that much, maybe he would decide that he needed her, too.

Buffy dressed, digging around in her suitcase for the small notebook she knew was in there. She heard footsteps behind her, and she rose to face him. “Please don’t say anything.”

“Alright.”

“I don’t know what you saw,” she said, rushing on. “But I know that whatever you remembered, it was totally out of context.” She shoved the notebook into his hands before she could change her mind.

“What’s this?”

“That is the truth about what the last sixteen months of my life were like without you. If you read that, and you decide that you don’t want to try, that we don’t have a connection—” Buffy took a deep breath. “Then I’ll call Giles and I’ll find another place to go.”

She turned and walked out of the room and decided to go for a walk. It would take him awhile to read it, and she didn’t want to be around while he did.

~~~~~

Spike wasn’t sure he wanted to do this, but he’d seen the look in Buffy’s eyes, and he knew he couldn’t refuse. His words had cut her deeply, and Spike didn’t want to hurt her.

He’d apparently done enough of that already.

Within the first few pages, Spike found that he was hooked. What he had in his hands were Buffy’s most intimate thoughts while he’d been gone, and he was astounded at the level of trust she’d shown by giving him the opportunity to read it.

There were moments he felt as though she were speaking directly to him, when the diary had become her substitute for his listening ear. There were other times when he knew that she would never have spoken the words aloud to anyone. What was clear was her loneliness, her fear for him, her near-despair.

She was convinced that he—Spike—was the one who kept her balanced, and kept her human, which was ironic, considering that he was a vampire.

The entries thinned out later, and when he reached the end, he read:

_“Spike is back, and I know he has no memories of me or of what we were together, but I have to believe that we’ll make it through this, too. We’ve made it through everything else.”_

His fingers traced the words, and Spike swallowed. Her belief in him was humbling, and he knew that if he did nothing else, if he remembered nothing else, he would remember this.

She loved him, she had given up everything to search for him, and he had no choice but to honor that sacrifice.

The brief knock on the door startled him. “Yeah?”

Buffy poked her head in. “I think I’m going to make a sandwich. Are you hungry?”

He was, he realized. He hadn’t thought about eating all day, too caught up in Buffy’s journal. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Sure.”

She turned to go, but Spike called her back. “Buffy.”

“Yeah?” Her expression indicated that she was bracing herself for the worst.

“About earlier—” He hesitated, not knowing how to explain. “I tried to rape you, didn’t I?”

Buffy’s eyes closed, her pain evident. “Yes, you did, but then you went to get your soul. I wasn’t exactly a saint either.”

“What I did—”

“Was horrible and wrong, and I didn’t deserve it.” Buffy cut him off. “But you don’t understand, Spike. Everything—everything we did, everything we’ve ever been to each other, has a context. Just know that we worked through it. You apologized, and I forgave you.”

He glanced down at the diary. “Yeah. I think I got that.”

“I’m going to get our food ready.”

If Buffy was right, if they had survived so much together, then he couldn’t quit now.

~~~~~

Buffy had reconsidered interrupting Spike as soon as she’d knocked, but she’d been hungry, and she didn’t think that Spike had eaten since the night before. Now that she knew what sort of flashback he’d had, she could understand his words from earlier in the day. Hell, she probably would have thought that their relationship was a bad idea had their positions been reversed.

She was too busy thinking to pay attention to where the knife was going while slicing the tomato for her sandwich, and she cried out as it sliced her finger.

If she hadn’t been a Slayer, Buffy knew she would have needed stitches. Even with her speedy healing, it was going to take some time for it to stop bleeding, and she held her hand over the sink.

“Buffy? You alright?”

“I cut myself,” she admitted. “I think there’s some first aid supplies in my bag.”

“Let me see.” Spike strode forward, seizing her bleeding hand in his. She felt him stiffen and saw his eyes flash gold as the sight and smell of her blood hit him hard. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, dropping her hand.

Buffy suddenly remembered being in the basement of the house in Sunnydale, with newly risen vampires holding her in place as Spike approached her. The First’s control over him had seemed complete—until he’d tasted her blood. That small taste had brought him back to himself, had brought him back to _her_.

“It’s okay,” she found herself saying, extending her bleeding hand to him. “It’s just going to go to waste otherwise.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said hoarsely.

“I do. Please, Spike. I want you to.”

Buffy had no idea what she was doing. This could either be the stupidest move she’d ever made, or the smartest. Either way, it was a gamble.

She watched him hesitate for one brief moment before his control broke. He reached for her hand again, but slowly this time, and she felt him tremble as he touched her. With exquisite tenderness, Spike lifted her bleeding finger to his mouth.

His tongue caressed the wound, and his eyes closed in obvious pleasure. When he began sucking, drawing out all the blood he could, Buffy shuddered, feeling it right down to her toes. He had always been able to get her off, and she felt the building orgasm.

Spike didn’t even seem to notice. He took what he could, then took a shaky step back. “I’d better get the first aid things.”

“Spike—”

He looked at her, and she saw a flash of recognition in his eyes. A slight frown furrowed his brow, and she could see confusion. “Buffy…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, convulsing on the floor. “Shit,” Buffy hissed, forgetting her bleeding finger as she dropped to the floor next to him. She pulled him into her lap, holding his shaking form tightly. “Spike, don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me.”

She had no idea what was going on or what could possibly be causing this. It was almost like the chip was firing again, but that was gone. She’d watched the army doctors take it out herself. Buffy pleaded with him to be okay, to not leave her again. She thought that the diary had done the trick, that she’d gotten through to him.

She’d thought—

He stilled abruptly, but didn’t regain consciousness, and Buffy stroked his cheek. “Come on, Spike. Come back to me.”

Buffy pulled her hand away as though she’d been burned. His skin was warm.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, gently moving him so that he was laying flat. There was color in his cheeks that had never been there before, and now that she was looking for it, she noticed the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

With no small amount of trepidation, Buffy put her hand over his heart and felt the thud-thud of his beating heart.

Her eyes wide, she watched as he began to stir and felt panic. Buffy hadn’t mentioned the Shanshu prophecy to him, and she had no idea how he was going to take being human. Unlike Angel, Spike had been quite happy as a vampire. She doubted he’d see this as a reward, which Angel undoubtedly would have.

Spike groaned, putting a hand to his head. “Bloody hell. That sodding hurts.” His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at Buffy. “What are you doing here?”

“Huh?”

“What are you doing here?” he repeated. “I thought—” Spike stopped cold. “Wait a minute. We’re not in L.A.”

Buffy shook her head, unable to speak.

“We’re…” He sat up slowly, and Buffy knew that he remembered everything then. He remembered _everything_. Spike’s blue eyes were soft with memories and sorrow. “Oh, luv.”

Spike pulled her into his arms, and they held one another for a very long time.

~~~~~

This wasn’t the first time he’d lost all memory of his past, only to regain it in a flash, and Spike wasn’t sure which occasion had been worst. The first time, of course, he’d lost the faint connection he’d forged with Buffy—Joan.

This time, he found himself with Buffy, with the knowledge that her love for him was absolute, but with a beating heart.

Although, oddly enough, his senses hadn’t been dulled.

“Okay, yeah…Yeah. Are you sure?”

Spike watched as Buffy paced the length of the living room. She’d made an emergency call to Wesley, wanting all the information he had on the Shanshu prophecy. Spike could tell that Buffy was feeling guilty for not telling him about it before it happened, but he thought it was probably for the best.

He’d had quite enough to deal with before.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the couch, counting up the casualties in his head. Buffy’s diary had given him the names—Angel, Cordelia, and Slayers both familiar and not—but not the emotions.

Spike supposed that Drusilla was out there somewhere, but he still felt adrift. He and Angel might not have been friends, but they had been family.

“Are you okay?” Her tone was hesitant, as though he would break if she pressed too hard.

“I’m fine, luv. Just—thinkin’ about Angel, actually.”

“Do you remember it? Did you see it?”

He could see the thirst for knowledge; she wanted to know everything that he had seen apart from her. “Caught a glimpse. It was a mess in that alley,” Spike admitted. “There was so much goin’ on, an’ too many demons to count.”

She swallowed. “And after?”

Spike felt his insides twist and go cold. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Buffy gave a quick, jerky nod and looked away. “It’s okay. I understand.”

He didn’t think she did. “Buffy, they wanted to break me, an’ the best way to do that was to make me think you’d turned on me, but I knew it wasn’t true. I knew it was all lies.”

Pulling her close, Spike rested his chin on the top of her head as she moved closer. “We’re gonna be okay, luv. I promise.”

She pulled back to kiss him gently. “Wes wants us to come to L.A.”

“Wants to see the Shanshu for himself, huh?”

“Something like that. He thought Angel was going to get it.”

Spike chuckled. “He’d have loved it.”

“And you don’t.”

He stared at her. “You tryin’ to say something?”

“I just—I know how much you loved…” Buffy stopped. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“What makes you think you would?” Spike sighed. “Look, Buffy, maybe I could have gone on bein’ a vampire quite happily, but I’m not goin’ to complain. I’m alive, in a very real sense, an’ I’ve got you.” Something occurred to him, something he’d said to Riley. “Are _you_ okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Spike wasn’t sure how to put it without pissing her off. “I once said that you needed a little monster in your man.”

“And maybe you were right,” Buffy replied, her expression unreadable. “But right now all I need is you.”

Her hands were everywhere, and Spike realized that he felt her warmth in a new way. His now-beating heart was racing, his skin felt hot and almost too tight. It was like every nerve ending was on fire, and when Buffy unbuttoned his jeans, it was all he could do not to jump the gun.

A coy smile played across her lips, and she left a trail of kisses down his neck, nipping gently right over his pulse point.

The gesture ripped a groan from him, and he moved quickly to regain control. For all his difficulty controlling his newly awoken body, Spike could feel the old strength in his muscles, and he gave thanks to whatever or whomever had arranged that little trick.

At least this way he was still a match for Buffy.


	10. Chapter 10

_“Day 190: I had a close call last night. There was this little snake-looking demon that I figured I’d just stomp on. I’m not sure what happened; Vi said Talia got thrown back by another demon. She knocked me over, and the snake thing went after her instead. We were lucky that Ellen was there, because she somehow managed to keep the poison from killing Talia immediately, and Vi chopped the snake’s head off with her ax. If Talia hadn’t been there, I would have been the one in a coma right now, and who would look for Spike then?” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to L.A., but Giles had been very gracious about it, agreeing that because Wesley had already done the research, it would be best. Vi and Audra were back in Bath, so they had a little time before they would be needed for training. Fred had needed to return to L.A. before Abby’s paperwork could be completed to get her into school, and so they would be traveling with her.

Giles had also suggested stopping in Cleveland, after dropping Abby off, which Buffy thought was a good idea. Spike wanted to see Dawn—now that he could actually remember her, and he was already cooking up ways to scare Oliver into doing right by her.

Buffy didn’t have the heart to discourage him; he was having too much fun with it, and fun had been in very short supply for a very long time now.

First, however, they were going back to Bath. There were more than a few things they needed to take care of.

Buffy watched as Spike stopped on their way down the front walk of the school. “Something wrong?”

“No. ‘s just that it feels almost like I’m seein’ it for the first time.” Spike glanced at her. “You worried?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. You look worried.”

“Giles wants us back here full time,” Buffy replied. “After we make the rounds, I mean.”

“And?”

“And I just didn’t know if you’d be okay with that.”

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Do me a favor, Summers,” Spike interrupted. “Don’t worry so much. You’ll remember that I just spent the last several hundred years getting turned inside out on a regular basis. I think I can handle training a few baby Slayers, as long as it means spending time with you.”

Buffy smiled. “Good.”

“Besides, it doesn’t mean Rupert won’t send us off on errands,” Spike pointed out. “Long as it’s the two of us together, that will suit me fine.”

Buffy nodded, although she still wondered if Spike was as okay with this whole turning human thing as he seemed to be.

Then again, other than the heartbeat, nothing much had changed. He’d already had his soul, and he’d had time to get used to that. He was still stronger and faster than an ordinary man, although not quite as strong or as fast as she was, but he didn’t seem to mind.

And that’s exactly what had her worried.

~~~~~

“Spike! You’re back!”

“What? Did you think I wasn’t going to return?” Spike picked Harry up and swung him around as the boy launched himself at him. The expression on Harry’s face indicated that’s exactly what the boy had thought, and Spike couldn’t blame him. “I’m here now, lad. I have an errand to run here in a few days, then I’ll be back for good.”

Harry’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Really. Isn’t that right, Buffy?”

She smiled, although the expression was strained. “That’s right.”

“Buffy! Spike!” Nora came flying out the door. “There’s a new girl, and a new boy!”

Spike slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders and followed the chattering Nora into the building. He knew that something was going on between them; Buffy was worried, but she wouldn’t tell him why. He would give her time, and eventually she would come clean.

“Spike.” Giles greeted him at the doorway, his hand outstretched. “Buffy told me the good news, of course.”

The Watcher _would_ see it as good news, and Spike didn’t try to correct his impression. “Of course. It’s good to see you again, Rupert.”

Relief crossed Giles’ face. “I didn’t know if you’d forgive me.”

Spike shrugged. “Fate’s a bitch, yeah?”

Giles looked at Harry pointedly. “I suppose so.”

“I’ve heard that word before,” Harry protested.

“Go on inside now,” Spike said, giving him a nudge. “I think we need to have a talk with the head Watcher.”

It didn’t take long to gather Giles and Miriam. Spike had every intention of getting this unpleasantness out of the way immediately, since they would be spending quite a bit of time together in the future.

“All right,” Spike said. “Let’s just get somethin’ straight. I don’t harbor any hard feelings. You saw what you saw, an’ you did what you did to make sure we didn’t both die.”

“I appreciate that, William,” Miriam said softly. “I am truly sorry for what you suffered.”

“You’re sorry?” Buffy asked incredulously. “You have the gall to say that after everything he went through? After everything _I_ went through?”

“Buffy—” Spike began.

“You should have _told_ me!” Buffy rounded on Giles, and Spike could hear the truth—and the sense of betrayal—in her voice.

“You would have tried to save him,” Miriam inserted.

“And I would have had that right!”

“Yes, you did have that right.” Giles’ quiet admission caused the whole room to go silent, and Spike watched as the older man faced the harm he’d done as honestly as he could. “I have taken a number of decisions away from you in the past, Buffy. I would tell you that I meant it for good, but that wouldn’t be fair. I should have trusted you to make the right decision.”

All the fight went out of her at that point, and Buffy nodded. “Yeah. You should have.”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I would appreciate it if you could try.”

“Buffy,” Spike interrupted, his voice gentle. “I knew what I was heading into.”

She turned her back to the room, and shook her head. “No, Spike. You didn’t. There’s no way you could.”

“Alright, then, I didn’t know. I knew it was goin’ to be bad, though, an’ that if you showed up there we’d both die. Maybe you’d have stayed away, or maybe you’d have come, an’ you would have been the only one to die. How do you think I would have handled that?”

“You can’t tell me that this worked out for the best,” she said in a low voice. “You were gone for over a year, Spike. They _tortured_ you, and they used me to break you.”

“An’ they couldn’t break either of us. Holding onto a grudge won’t change any of that.”

Spike could tell that he’d managed to get through when her shoulders drooped. “You’re right,” she agreed. Buffy turned again to look at Miriam and Giles. “No more secrets,” she insisted. “I don’t care how good your reasons are. And no more separating us. You have enough trained warriors now that we can stay together. You get both of us or neither one of us.”

“Of course,” Giles agreed, his voice steady, although Spike could read the relief in his expression easily enough. “Thank you, Buffy.”

She nodded. “Spike’s right. There’s no point in holding a grudge. I’m going to go upstairs.”

Buffy left the room without a backwards look, and Spike sat down again. “I’m assuming you two wanted to talk to me.”

“I’d rather do it with Buffy here,” Giles replied. “I have a feeling that she might consider this a secret.”

Spike shrugged. “I don’t.”

“You still have your strength?” Giles asked, apparently deciding to take his word on Buffy’s reaction.

He nodded. “Nothing much is different, really. My heart is beating, I don’t need blood, and I don’t need this.” Spike held up the hand with the ring on it. “Meant to ask if you wanted it back.”

Miriam shook her head. “There’s no reason for that. It’s yours, and it’s keyed to you.” Her smile was slightly pained. “Call it a souvenir.”

“Don’t really need another one, but I’ll take it. Anything else you wanted to know?”

“How are you, really?” Miriam asked.

Spike could tell that she meant the question, and that her concern was real. For some reason, he could tell her what he hadn’t been able to say to Buffy. “The nightmares are bad,” he admitted. “I can usually forget what happened, but in my dreams…” He trailed off. Although he knew that it hadn’t been Buffy who had tortured him, nor had it been any of the others, it was still difficult to wake up next to the woman he loved, but whose face had a starring role in his nightmares.

“I can help you out with that,” Miriam replied, “but I think Ellen will have more success. It’s probably a good thing that you’ll be seeing her soon.”

Spike nodded. “I’d appreciate it. I know Buffy senses something, but—she doesn’t need to know all of this, an’ I’d rather not worry her. I’ve done enough of that recently.”

He’d caused her worry enough to last several lifetimes.

~~~~~

Talia stood in the doorway of the training room, watching Buffy’s fists and feet hit the punching bag. The sound was rhythmic, almost comforting in a way. She’d been hearing it for weeks now, watching others spar and practice as she sat on the sidelines.

“Hey.”

Buffy stopped and turned, her smile welcoming when she saw who was standing in the doorway. “Hey! You’re looking a lot better.”

“I’m feeling a lot better,” Talia admitted, limping into the training room. “The coven said that if I keep improving, I’ll be cleared for training in a couple of weeks, and then I can go back in the field.”

Buffy winced. “I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault. These things happen, and no one knew the demon was poisonous.”

No one had known because the demon was from another dimension. Talia had lasted longer in L.A. than many of the other Slayers, though. Buffy had needed everyone who could hold a weapon at first, and she’d proven herself in the battle to close the portal.

But six months in, she’d been bitten by a small, snake-like demon, and that was the last she’d known for the next five months. Talia had overheard some of the coven members discussing her situation, and no one had thought she’d come out of her coma—but she had.

It was just unfortunate that the venom had prevented her Slayer healing from working right; she should have been able to bounce out of bed, and instead she had been too stiff to move.

Now, months later, she was finally regaining her strength—and she was feeling trapped.

“I heard Spike was back—with his memories this time.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t come to see you at the coven,” Buffy replied. “But yeah, he didn’t remember anything. We’re supposed to head out to L.A. to see Wesley soon. He’s got more information on the prophecy.”

“The one that had Spike turning human?”

Buffy nodded. “Something like that.”

“Can I come with you?” Talia asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of her voice. “You’re not likely to get into trouble, and I need to get out of here.”

“Feeling cooped up?”

“I was in a bloody bed for months, and all anybody ever tells me to do is rest,” Talia complained. “It’s getting old.”

Buffy grimaced sympathetically. “I guess we probably could. We’re taking Abby back, too, so you guys can keep each other company. I’ll talk to Giles about it.”

Talia grinned. “Thanks. It’s been too long since I’ve been out from under someone’s thumb.”

She left Buffy to her practicing and started making her slow way down the hall. The witches had said that besides the coma, which had caused her muscles to atrophy no matter how hard they’d tried to stave it off, the venom had affected her joints.

Talia had to admit that’s what worried her the most. They couldn’t say what sort of long-term effects there would be, and she feared the worst.

“Talia.” Spike came out of one of the rooms off the corridor, his smile widening when he caught sight of her. “You’re lookin’ better than I expected.”

“You heard?”

“Buffy told me.” Spike tilted his head. “I also heard that you saved Buffy’s life.”

Talia shrugged uncomfortably. She might have appreciated the recognition, and the accolades at one point, but she’d seen plenty of heroic acts. Her own actions in L.A. weren’t anything special. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, pet.” Spike smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Where’s Buffy? Do you know?”

“Training room,” Talia said, a little dazed.

Looked like she still had a bit of a crush on him.

~~~~~

Buffy allowed herself to relax for the first time in days. Spike was patiently helping Talia relearn how to throw darts while Vi and Audra looked on, waiting their turns. She sipped her beer, beginning to believe that this might turn out okay.

Spike sat down in the chair next to her as Vi began her turn at the dartboard. “You alright, luv?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine.”

He eyed her, clearly not buying it. “You’ve been quiet.”

Buffy wasn’t sure how to respond at first, then finally said, “I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “Forget I said anything. I’m just in a weird mood tonight.”

“Is it that hard to talk to me?” His tone was wistful, and Buffy realized that she’d been hiding a lot from him over the last few days. She was so grateful to have him back, and yet things were still so strange between the two of them. Buffy had no idea how to reconcile their past relationship with what they had now.

So much had happened, so much had changed, and she’d been fighting for so long. Buffy wasn’t sure she knew how to just be with him. And she knew there were things he wasn’t telling her, too.

“No. I’m just not used to talking to anybody.”

“Pretend you’re writing in your diary.”

Buffy sighed. That was part of the problem. Spike had a very good idea of how much went through her head now, and she wasn’t sharing much of it. She didn’t want to jeopardize what they had.

“How long have we known each other, Spike?”

He frowned, doing the mental calculation. “Dunno. Eight years, about?”

“And when in that time has there not been a crisis requiring my immediate attention?”

She could see that the light was beginning to dawn. “Never?”

“Exactly. How do I do this? I’m not used to not having to worry, and I know I sound like an ungrateful bitch for saying this, but—”

“You don’t. To be honest, I feel a bit at loose ends, too.” His eyes met hers, and she could see the wry amusement there. “We’ll just have to figure it out as we go along, I suppose.”

Spike intertwined his fingers with hers on top of the table, and she held on tightly.

Vi plopped down across from them. “So, how long are you two going to be gone?”

Buffy glanced at Spike, and he shrugged. “I don’t know,” Buffy said for both of them. “I should probably spend some time in Cleveland with Dawn and Willow, so I’m guessing two weeks. Why?”

“Because if Giles decides to ship us off after you get back, I want to know how much time I’ve got to seduce that cute Watcher.”

“Which cute Watcher?” Audra inquired, sitting down next to her.

Vi grinned. “Cole. He’s back for more training, didn’t you hear?”

Audra fake-pouted. “Damn. I wanted him.”

“Too bad. I saw him first, but I think he has an older brother.”

Audra made a face. “Kenton? No thank you. All he can talk about is how when he was at the Academy, things were so much harder, and he was at the top of his class.”

“What about Andrew?” Talia asked. “I heard he was coming back from Singapore.”

“Wait, what?” Spike asked with real alarm in his voice. “When is he getting back?”

“Relax,” Buffy said with a laugh. “It’s after we leave. I made sure of it. I didn’t think you were quite up for a visit from Andrew.”

“Where’s he been?” Spike was clearly trying to figure out whether this was information he should have known.

Vi smirked. “Giles has been using him as a liaison on the other side of the world, going between the Watchers in East Asia, Australia, those places. Rumor has it that he’s gotten better.”

“I can do without the firsthand knowledge,” Spike muttered.

Vi turned to Talia to explain. “Andrew had a crush on Spike.”

Spike slumped in his chair. “Don’t remind me. Please.”

“You should have seen the video he made of Spike and Buffy,” Vi continued, unrepentant.

Buffy frowned. “How did you know about that?”

She shrugged. “I saw him shooting the footage.” Vi grinned. “It was quite the love story.”

Buffy met Spike’s eyes, and they both smiled, knowing exactly how much of a story it was.


	11. Chapter 11

_“Day 400: Things are getting better here. We’ve been able to open up more of our section, and I know the others are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. But if we get through here, and I still haven’t found Spike… I don’t know what will happen then. I can’t leave without him.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

Wesley scanned the crowd standing around the baggage claim for any sign of Buffy, Spike, or the two Slayers they had with them. “Do you see them?”

Faith shook her head. “No. I think—” She broke off. “I think we’ve been found.”

Wesley caught sight of Abby weaving her way through the crowd, grinning broadly. She stopped just as she reached them, her expression now a little shy. “Hey.”

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Abby,” Wesley said. “I think you must have grown six inches.”

“Only four.” She blushed as she said it. She’d grown quite a bit, losing the baby fat and turning into a tall, well-built young woman who looked older than barely fifteen. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“We’ve got your room all ready for you, kid,” Faith replied. “It’s good to have you back.”

Her grin broadened at that. “It’s good to be back. I know Talia wishes she could stay.”

“How is she?” Wesley asked. He remembered the rush to get her out of the city, and the fear that they would lose her.

Abby shook her head. “Still really stiff. Nobody knows if it’s permanent or not, but she’s doing good, all things considered. Buffy and Spike didn’t want her trying to push through the crowd, but they didn’t want to tell her that either.”

She led the way to an area out of the way of the crush of people. Buffy and Talia were talking animatedly, although Wesley couldn’t quite make out the subject of their conversation. “Wes!” Buffy greeted him enthusiastically, giving him a hug, and then doing the same with Faith. He noted that the gesture wasn’t as awkward as he might have expected it to be. “You guys are looking good.”

“The hotel is almost like a resort now,” Faith replied. “Gotta say, I feel like I’m on vacation half the time.”

“Same here,” Buffy agreed.

“How is Spike?” Wesley asked, keeping his voice low.

She shrugged uncomfortably. “Good, I think. It’s a transition for both of us.”

“Where is Spike?” Faith asked.

“Men’s room.” Buffy’s smile was bright and genuine. “He’s still getting used to that part of being human.”

Talia snickered. “That and having his ears pop on the flight.”

Although Wesley could sense some uneasiness under the surface, it was clear that Buffy was doing a lot better than she had been before leaving L.A. “I take it he’s getting used to being human.”

“Getting there.” Spike’s voice came from behind him, and Wesley jumped. “A little on edge, Watcher?”

“I think we’re all still on edge,” was Wesley’s dry response. “Can we help with the luggage?”

He made sure to grab Talia’s bag, not wanting the girl to be taxed more than necessary.

Spike and the two girls were quiet as Buffy asked about some of the Slayers she’d left behind. The gossip was soothing—normal. Wesley didn’t think that he was the only one who found normality strange these days.

~~~~~

“You kept it, huh?” Buffy asked, looking around the room.

Faith shrugged. “We figured you’d be back, and there are plenty of rooms. We can afford to keep one reserved for you.”

“How are things, really?”

They were alone. Talia had wanted to see everything that had changed while she’d been gone, and Spike had appeared interested in getting the grand tour, as had Abby. Buffy suspected that Wesley had known that she and Faith wanted to catch up.

Oddly enough, her relationship with Faith was definitely a sisterly one at this point.

“It’s good,” Faith replied. “Weird, you know, but good. We’re pulling in plenty of business. I meant to ask you and Spike if you wanted to help out while you were here, or if you really were on vacation.”

“If you need us,” Buffy said. “We haven’t done much of that since we left.”

“How are you?”

Buffy took a deep breath. “I don’t know. It’s just—I never thought we’d make it this far.”

“Me neither.”

There was a companionable silence, then Faith said, “Wes mentioned marriage the other day.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Not seriously.” Faith didn’t meet her eyes. “I mean, it wasn’t a proposal or anything, more of a comment that it might be cool someday.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that maybe it would be.” She snorted. “Listen to us, B. You ever think we’d be here?”

Buffy shook her head, walking over to the window and looking out. The view was familiar and not at the same time. Everything was different now; there were moments when she felt as though she was living someone else’s life. “No. I don’t think I believed I’d get him back.” She turned, facing Faith, leaning against the windowsill. “Don’t tell Spike, but I miss Angel.”

“Me, too. We never made things right. I didn’t think he’d die.”

“Nobody ever thinks it could happen.” After a pause, Buffy changed the subject. “How are Connor and Dana?” Buffy asked. They were the two that everyone was probably most worried about once things opened up again.

Faith rolled her eyes. “They’re humping like bunnies is what they’re doing. Apparently they’ve decided that since there aren’t as many demons to kill, they can spend their free time with each other.” She grinned reluctantly. “Ellen is pleased, though. Connor’s memories of having a normal life are ‘giving him some balance,’ which helps Dana.” She made air quotes to indicate that those were Ellen’s words, not hers.

“Could be worse,” Buffy commented.

They both sobered, their eyes meeting. “It could always be worse,” Faith agreed. “Most of the time it is.”

Buffy straightened. “You got anything to eat around here? I’m starving.”

Faith just laughed. “With half a dozen Slayers around plus Connor, we keep the kitchen stocked.”

~~~~~

The hotel was much like he’d remembered it. Spike had sensed that Buffy wanted some time alone with Faith, and he hadn’t minded getting the tour with Abby and Talia.

“We’re discussing changing the training room around,” Wes commented as the girls tried out the throwing knives. Spike hadn’t been terribly surprised when they’d picked them up; put a Slayer in a room full of weapons, and she was going to be drawn to them.

“Moving it upstairs?”

“Something like that. Safety is no longer the issue that it was.” Wesley lowered his voice. “Giles told me that you wanted to see Ellen alone while you’re here.”

“That was his idea—his an’ Miriam’s. They think she can help.”

“She’s done wonders for Connor and Dana.” Wesley was quiet for a moment. “Nightmares?”

He shrugged, unwilling to get into it. “How are the girls settling in?”

“Better than I might have expected,” Wesley admitted. “Leslie is applying to UCLA. I don’t think she’ll have any trouble being accepted. Some of the other girls are talking about college as well.”

“Good for them.” Spike meant it. He well knew that age would eventually become a factor for a Slayer, and it wouldn’t hurt the girls to have a fallback plan.

After all, not every Slayer and shanshued vampire could get teaching positions.

Spike caught Wesley looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “Spit it out.”

“How is it? Being human?”

Spike sighed, tired of giving his stock answer, and knowing that he didn’t have to worry about hurting the other man’s feelings. “I don’t mind most of the time.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“Let’s just say I’ve decided that it isn’t worth the trouble of getting turned again. Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy every heartbeat.”

What Spike didn’t say was that being with Buffy made it all worthwhile, and being human made that just a little bit easier.

There was one question that had been niggling at him, though, ever since Buffy had passed along the information Wesley had given her about the shanshu.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course.” Wesley looked at Spike, clearly giving him his full attention.

Spike moved his shoulders uncomfortably. “About this prophecy—did it say anything about Slayer blood?”

Wesley’s expression turned knowing. “Ah. I see. Buffy told me what happened. In truth, I’m not sure that her blood had anything to do with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The prophecy said specifically that the souled vampire would undergo many trials before the shanshu, but can you be said to have experienced those trials if you don’t remember them?” Wesley shrugged. “It’s a philosophical question, of course, and I’m not sure it matters in your case.”

“You’re saying that the Slayer’s blood brought me back, an’ because of that, I turned human?”

Wesley shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Prophecies are notoriously cryptic, and this one was no different.”

Spike fell silent, thinking about the implications of it all. He thought perhaps that Wesley was right. Did the mechanics mean anything at all when the result was the same?

~~~~~

Ellen poured a cup of tea, wishing that the wall between her room and Dana’s wasn’t quite so thin—or that the girl had gone to Connor’s room, farther down the hall. She was honestly happy for the two of them; Connor was a calming influence on Dana, and their relationship made her job that much easier because they no longer were relying on her for stability.

That didn’t make it easier to sleep at night, however.

Sensing a presence behind her, Ellen turned to see Spike in the doorway, looking as though he was ready to run.

“Tea?”

He hesitated, and Ellen knew that he’d been avoiding her deliberately over the last few days since his arrival. “I don’t bite, you know.”

Spike nodded, still looking wary. “Yeah, thanks.”

She poured a second cup. “Would you like to tell my why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“If I said no?”

“Then we’d probably make small talk, and when you’d finished your tea, you’d rejoin your Slayer,” she said knowingly. “I don’t think you’re very good at small talk.”

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “Miriam said you could help me.”

Ellen could sense how difficult it had been for him to utter those words. He didn’t like to admit that he needed help, nor did he like to ask for it. “I can. Did she give you something for the nightmares?”

Spike nodded, looking down into his tea. “Yeah. It’s been helping, but…”

“Oh, lad,” she murmured, stepping closer to him and putting her hand on his cheek. “Such a dark road you’ve walked.”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not her, Ellen. I know she didn’t do any of it, but…”

Ellen took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized it before, but it was much easier to work with Spike now that he was human. Entering a vampire’s psyche had been difficult, and probably a bit dangerous as well. “Close your eyes.”

Spike did as he was told, and she took a deep breath, centering herself for the work ahead. Because Connor and Dana needed her so little these days, she had more strength to give.

When she opened her eyes again, she felt drained, but she could see from Spike’s face that some invisible burden had been lifted. “What—”

“I did what I always do. It will feel more like a bad dream now, as though it happened to someone else. In time, your memories of that time will fade completely. I’m afraid that you’ll most likely still have nightmares, but they will disappear when you wake.”

“Thanks.” His voice was hoarse, and she could see the real gratitude in his eyes. There was still a shadow there, however, and Ellen knew what had caused it.

“Spike—William, Buffy truly does not care that you’re human now, but I think you do.”

He backed up a step. “It’s fine.”

“Have you ever thought about the fact that had you remained a vampire, you would one day lose her to old age, or illness? She would die, and you would be left behind. Be grateful for the opportunity to grow old together. Not everyone is offered that chance.”

She could see him swallow. “I know.” He raised his cup. “Thanks again.”

He left then, but Ellen knew that he would think about what she said, and that was all she asked. Eventually, he would come to accept what had happened.

She had made certain of it.

~~~~~

Faith lounged on the bed, watching avidly as Wesley undressed. The hardships of the last year had resulted in a chiseled physique without an ounce of fat—not surprising, considering the hours of physical activity and the often-inadequate rations. Faith couldn’t say that she minded.

“See something you like?” he asked, tossing his t-shirt over the arm of a chair.

She smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing. You were the one who took so long to finish up.” There had been two jobs to do, and in the spirit of friendly competition, she, Buffy, and Dana had taken one, while Spike, Wesley, and Connor had been assigned the other. The other Slayers had been either been assigned to the hotel or routine patrol.

The women had beat the men back by well over an hour.

“I think we had a little more to do.”

Faith snorted. “You just don’t want to admit defeat. Girls rule.”

“In Amazonia? Always,” Wesley responded readily.

“Get over here,” she ordered, pleased when he obeyed. His kiss was rough and needy, demanding. Faith’s need for him overwhelmed her, rising up and filling her. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she couldn’t imagine her life without him anymore.

Wesley rolled them both over so that she was on top, his hands gripping her tightly, as though to prevent her from fleeing. She understood why a moment later.

“I love you.”

She tensed, reading the truth in his eyes. Faith couldn’t deny it, not when they had been together for so long, not when she felt the same way.

“I love you, too.”

And even though the words still felt foreign, the feelings were as comfortable as her favorite pair of jeans. This was something she could count on to last, and Faith had plenty of evidence to support that theory.

~~~~~

Everyone had known that Buffy had been looking for Spike, but Leslie hadn’t quite understood what those who knew them meant when they said “Buffy and Spike,” as though it was almost one word.

She did now.

Looking at them from her position behind the hotel desk, Leslie watched as Spike said something that made Buffy laugh as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was kind of strange to see the public displays of affection; Wes and Faith weren’t nearly as obvious about their relationship.

Although, Leslie figured that if she hadn’t seen her boyfriend for over a year, she probably wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off of him either.

“How’s it coming?” Caridad asked, looking at the college admission application.

Leslie made a face. “Let’s just say that I’m glad my SAT scores are still good. This is bad enough.”

Caridad snorted. “Les, you’d kick ass on the SAT if you had to take it again. You’re probably the smartest one here—other than Wes.”

“Maybe I should have been a Watcher,” Leslie joked.

Caridad shook her head. “Nah. You’d never stay out of the action.”

Leslie grinned. “You’re right about that.”

“Okay, somebody convince Wes and Faith that tonight is a night for pizza,” Uta begged, hopping up to sit on the counter in a smooth, practiced motion, crossing her legs. “I mean, Buffy and Spike are leaving tomorrow, right? So we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate our leaving?” Spike called across the lobby.

Leslie hid a laugh as Uta flushed. “She meant that she wants to give you a proper send-off,” Phoebe supplied, mirroring Uta’s position. “But if we get pizza, I say we make it a real party and send somebody out for beer.”

“I don’t think you’re old enough to drink,” Buffy said, frowning.

“I am,” Caridad said. “Just turned 21 last week.”

“And we didn’t have a party for her,” Uta pointed out triumphantly. “See? I say we party!”

Buffy shot a look at Spike, and Leslie watched as they seemed to communicate silently. “We haven’t had the traditional post-apocalyptic celebration yet,” she said slowly.

“I was getting hazard pay while I was gone,” Spike put in. “I’ll take care of it. Why not celebrate while we’ve got the chance?”

Leslie knew exactly what he meant. They had all seen more than enough suffering and death to know that it was important to enjoy life whenever you had the chance.

And pizza and beer sounded like exactly what they needed.

~~~~~

Buffy didn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. Everyone old enough to drink had gotten pleasantly buzzed, and at some point Abby had pulled out her slingshot for an impromptu contest. Considering that it was Abby’s weapon of choice, it was not surprising that she had won, although the fact that Wesley was a close second had been a bit of a surprise.

For the first time in what felt like years, Buffy had been able to completely relax, surrounded by people she knew, and who knew her well. They had all been through the fire together, and survived, and Buffy allowed herself to believe that everything might be okay.

She was flushed with alcohol when she and Spike finally made it to their room, and maybe feeling a little braver than she might have been without it.

“Spike?”

He was stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and Buffy suddenly wondered how drunk he was. As a vampire, he could drink almost indefinitely without feeling the effects; that was no longer the case.

For a moment, she thought he’d gone to sleep, but one blue eye finally cracked open. “Yeah?”

“How are you?”

He closed his eyes again, tightly, as though her question had pained him, and she went to sit next to him on the side of the bed, resting one hand on his bare chest. “Please, Spike.”

His eyes finally opened. “Right now, I’m a bit pissed.” The hurt must have shown on her face, thinking that her question had angered him, because he sighed. “I meant drunk, luv. I’ve had a few, an’ I forgot what that will do to a human.”

She nodded, realizing that he wasn’t going to answer her question, and she started to rise. His hand covered hers where it rested on his chest. “I’m okay, Buffy.”

Looking away, not wanting to see his expression for this, she asked, “And being human? Are you okay with that, too?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about that,” he admitted. “I won’t say it’s something I wanted, but then again, I never thought it was a possibility.”

They were both quiet, and Buffy wondered what he would say next. “Ellen said somethin’ to me about that. She reminded me that we’ve got the chance to grow old together.”

Buffy managed a smile. “We do.”

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “What would you think about getting married?”

“What?”

“Just a question. Think about it, but—”

“Yes.” The word was out of her mouth before she even realized that she meant it, but she did. Months of being separated had told Buffy exactly how much she loved him, how much she needed him. “Not right away, but yes. I want to marry you.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Okay, then.”

They didn’t get much sleep that night.


	12. Chapter 12

_“I’m not counting days anymore. It feels weird come back to this, to write it down. It was a substitute for Spike while he was gone, but now that he’s back, I don’t feel like I need it anymore. But he’s back, and we’re together, and I think we’re both going to be okay.” ~Excerpt from the diary of Buffy Summers_

They said goodbye to everyone in L.A. amidst promises to visit again, and then flew to Cleveland. Although Spike wasn’t sorry that they were stopping to see Dawn, he was beginning to yearn for home.

It was strange to think of Council headquarters as home, but it was as close to it as anything else.

Another airport, another gate, and Spike could see Dawn and Willow waving to them by the baggage claim. “Buffy!” Dawn crossed the intervening space quickly, throwing her arms around her sister.

“I just saw you a few weeks ago,” Buffy replied laughingly, returning Dawn’s embrace. “How are you? Is Oliver still driving you crazy?”

“Depends on the day,” Dawn admitted, shrugging. “Right now we’re good, though.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Buffy replied with a smile.

Dawn turned to look at him. “So. Have you remembered me yet?”

“Yeah, Nibblet. I remember you.” He raised his eyebrow. “What? Don’t I get a hug?”

She threw her arms around him in lieu of a response. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry, pet.”

“Don’t be,” she murmured into his chest. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah. I am. I’m okay.” For the first time in a long time, he was.

~~~~~

“So tell me. What are your intentions towards Dawn?”

Oliver did his best not to squirm. Dawn had warned him that Spike would likely try to intimidate him, and that his best bet was to stand firm and be honest.

Metaphorically speaking, anyway, since they were both seated.

“I, uh, I want to make her happy.”

Spike crossed his arms over his chest. “Uh huh.”

Oliver realized that it wasn’t the right answer. “I want to marry her?” he hazarded. As Spike’s eyebrows went up, he quickly added, “Someday. When we’re older.”

“You’re how much older ‘n her?”

Oliver swallowed, knowing that there was no right answer to this question. “Four years.”

“And you know how important she is to us.”

“She’s just as important to me,” he replied sincerely. “Dawn’s everything to me.”

Spike’s eyes softened then. “Just remember that, then.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Right. You know the drill. Hurt her, an’ I will rip out your heart with my bare hands.” Spike followed up that pronouncement with a beatific smile. “Welcome to the family.”

Oliver stayed seated after Spike left the room, still feeling a little stunned, and not clear on whether he’d been let off easy or not.

“Spike’s smiling, so you must not have done too badly,” Dawn said, coming into the study.

He raised his eyebrows. “Thanks for the warning.”

Dawn shrugged. “There was no way I could prepare you for Spike. I had no idea what he’d be like, given that the last time I saw him, he didn’t even remember me.”

Oliver sighed and slouched down in his chair a little farther. “I thought you said he’d mellowed.”

Dawn shrugged. “He has, actually. Other than the obligatory warning, he’s not going to do anything. I call that mellow—for Spike.”

“Maybe I should be grateful that he wasn’t around when we started dating.”

“Oh, I am,” Dawn said with a grin. “Come on, we’re dishing up dinner.”

Oliver levered himself up with his crutches. “Who cooked?”

“Rachel did most of the work, but Oz helped. Whatever it is, it smells amazing.”

Oliver swung himself out of the room and smiled as he thought about Spike’s parting words. As crazy as it was, he did feel like he was part of a family again.

~~~~~

Smoking was no longer an option, at least according to Buffy, but there were times when Spike still wanted a cigarette so badly he could taste it. It wasn’t the nicotine fix he wanted, but the ritual: hunt for pack of cigarettes, shake one out, hunt for lighter, light it up.

Spike had perfected the show over the years, and the production was as much a part of him as his duster had been. There were times when he wondered who he was, he’d left so much of himself behind over the last few years.

But anytime he started thinking about what he had left behind, he was immediately reminded of what he’d gained, and that outweighed his losses by a long shot.

“Hey. I thought I might find you out here.”

Spike looked up to see Dawn. “Gonna join me?”

“Sure. You’re not smoking, huh?”

“Your sister put her foot down, said she wasn’t going to lose me any sooner than she had to.”

“Makes sense.”

They sat in companionable silence. Dawn was the one to break it. “Is it weird?”

He didn’t have to ask what she was referring to. “Not as much as you’d think,” he admitted. “It’d be different if I didn’t have the same strength as before.”

“I guess so.”

“How is it being in Cleveland?”

“Kind of like being in Sunnydale, only without the big sister who insists I stay behind.” Dawn grinned at him. “I’m glad you guys could stop through.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything, Bit.” Spike smirked. “Don’t tell your boy this, but I like him.”

Dawn knew that was as close to a blessing as Spike would ever utter, and coming from him, it meant a lot. “I’m glad.” She paused. “Buffy said you guys are going to get married.”

“In a year or two.” The way he said it told Dawn just how much the idea thrilled him, no matter how nonchalant he tried to sound. “Not right away. We both figure we need some time to get settled in Bath, see what our lives are gonna look like.”

“Makes sense. You both have been going non-stop the last couple of years.”

There was another long silence, but this time, Dawn simply rested her head on Spike’s shoulder, feeling his warm arm pull her close. It was just what she’d needed.

~~~~~

“So, you guys are staying here?” Buffy asked.

Willow nodded. “We’ve worked out a system. I don’t know how much Dawn needs us right now, but Giles said that there wasn’t anywhere else he needed us more.” She flushed a little bit. “And it’s good for me to stay in one place right now.”

Buffy’s eyebrows went up. “What are you talking about?” Something about Willow’s expression gave her a clue. “You—are you pregnant?” she asked in a whisper.

Willow’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “Yeah. It’s not something we planned for, but it’s okay.”

Buffy couldn’t quite believe that one of her oldest friends was pregnant, but at the same time, it felt right. Willow was clearly excited about the possibility, in spite of her embarrassment. “What did Oz say?”

Willow grinned, her face full of mischief. “He didn’t say anything, but he did have to sit down.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

She laughed at the memory. “Yep. Definitely went weak in the knees.”

“I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Me neither.”

They grinned at each other, and for a moment, it felt like it had back in high school, before things had really gone to hell, when they could sit and talk about boys for hours.

Willow sobered quickly. “Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are—are we okay?”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah, Will. We’re good.”

She thought it might finally be time to move on.

~~~~~

As much as Buffy had enjoyed the time spent in Los Angeles and Cleveland, she was grateful to get out of the car in front of Council headquarters. What she wanted most was a few weeks of sleeping in the same bed—with Spike. That alone would be heaven.

She felt strong arms grab her from behind as she unpacked, and Spike nipped at her ear. “Forget that.”

“We’re supposed to have dinner with Giles and Miriam tonight,” she reminded him, although she wasn’t opposed to blowing it off.

Spike worked his way down the side of her neck. “Who cares? We’ll tell them we’re too tired.”

“Are we?”

“We will be.”

She giggled as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, then twisted in his arms so that she was facing him. Twining her arms around his neck, she raised an eyebrow. “We’ll get into trouble.”

“What can he do to us?” Spike asked, his eyes bright with desire and mischief. “He can’t fire us, an’ he knows that he won’t get away with sending us on different missions again.”

“Good point.” She turned them both, and with a good push, sent Spike tumbling back onto the bed. He pulled her with him, and they lay sprawled and laughing, kissing breathlessly, desperately.

Buffy felt seventeen again—which is probably why they were interrupted just then by a brief knock and Nora’s head poking inside. “Come quick! Two of the Watchers are fighting!”

There was real alarm in the girl’s voice, and so Buffy hurriedly straightened her clothes, running her fingers through her hair as she followed Spike and Nora down the hallway towards the training room.

Sure enough, two of the younger Watchers were facing off. Buffy didn’t recognize either of them, although that wasn’t surprising. Most of the ones who had been at headquarters before she’d gone to L.A. were out in the field now, or had been killed. She and Spike hadn’t been around enough recently to get to know any of the new ones.

It looked as though the fight had already started in earnest. The boy, who looked about fourteen, had a split lip, and the girl, who looked a little younger, had a bruise blossoming across her cheek.

“What the hell is going on here?” Buffy demanded in her best drill instructor voice.

The two combatants looked startled. “Who are you?” the boy demanded rebelliously.

She looked at Spike, and he cocked an eyebrow. Buffy read his intentions before he even opened his mouth. “I’m Spike, that’s Buffy, an’ we’re the new teachers,” he said. “You’ve probably heard of us.”

There was a sudden hush in the room, and Buffy spoke into it. “If you two want to fight so badly, you can gear up. Pads and quarterstaffs.”

Her tone of voice left no room for arguing, and she was gratified when the two went to get the equipment. She hid a sigh, thinking longingly of their bed and interrupted activities.

Spike met her eyes, then leaned in close. “We’re gonna have to get a ‘do not disturb’ sign.”

“I’ll discuss it with Giles.”

And with identical rueful smiles, they began showing the two troublesome Watchers exactly how it was done.

~~~~~

“I didn’t think you were s’posed to be smoking.”

Talia deliberately took another drag on her cigarette. “Want one?”

“God, yes.” Spike took the proffered pack and shook one out. “Don’t tell Buffy.”

“You pulling my leg? If I did that, I’d have to admit that I’m smoking.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “We both know I’m not going to make it into the field again.”

Spike winced in sympathy. He didn’t mind being relegated to a teacher’s position at this point, not after centuries of action. Talia, on the other hand, was heartbreakingly young to be placed on the permanent disability list. “You’ve got options, luv.”

“I know. I just miss the fight.” She tipped her head back to look up at the night sky. “Don’t you?”

“Believe it or not, it does get old eventually. I’ve seen more than anybody should. There comes a point when you’re grateful for a soft bed at night and three squares a day.”

“Besides, you’re so old you probably creak when you get up,” Talia responded with a smirk.

“Hey! You take that back. I’ll have you know I’m a young man in my prime.”

She gave him a considering look. “How old are you?”

“Are we includin’ the centuries spent in a hell dimension?”

“Let’s say no.”

Spike did the math quickly. “Uh, ‘bout 126 years spent as a vampire, and about 28 as a human.”

“So, when is your birthday, then?”

He shrugged. “Hell if I know. Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

“Why do you ask?”

Talia shrugged. “Just curious, I guess. Maybe that can be my new job—remembering everybody’s birthdays.” She ground her cigarette out under her heel. “I should get inside. I’m supposed to be helping Nora with her homework. I can go into a healing trance better than any other Slayer, you know. Lots of practice.”

Spike watched her leave, feeling a deep sorrow. So many of the Slayers and Watchers had lost so much—their health, their childhoods, even their lives. He’d lost quite a bit himself, although he counted himself among the lucky ones. He still had his health—and Buffy.

They had survived; he wasn’t sure whether it was a testament to their luck, their skill, or something else. He didn’t think he cared.

“Those things will kill you.”

Spike took a final drag and put the cigarette out. “It’s just one.”

“Bummed from Talia?” Buffy leaned up against the outside of the building next to him.

“She wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“She didn’t have to.” Buffy appeared more amused than anything else. “I saw her coming in, and I followed the scent of smoke.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind, just as long as it’s only an occasional thing.”

Spike turned to face her. “Is that right?”

“It brings back memories.”

He could see the nostalgia in her eyes, and felt a wave of the same. “Indeed it does.”

“So does this.” Buffy moved so quickly that he didn’t have time to figure out what she was doing until her lips were pressed roughly to his, devouring. Spike felt an answering need, and he ran his hands down her arms, seizing her waist, pulling her against him.

He pulled her up, her legs locked around him, and Spike could feel her fumbling with his belt. They both froze for a moment, remembering a night in a broken-down house, and Buffy smiled, the light in her eyes soft. “I love you, Spike. Always.”

Spike gave her an answering smile, knowing that whatever else came to pass, their love was a constant—now and always.


End file.
